Saturday, December 25, 2010

Yup, I'm posting. Have faith, my friends. (And patience. :-)


I'm not posting again until the year 2011.

Happy New Year.

No matter what you believe about Christmas, I expect we can agree on one thing:

Santa Claus is not real.


Of Cakes and Birthdays

Roses are red... Uh, wait. No they're not.

But sugar still is sweet and so are you, dear sister.

Another dear sister and graduate of A.C. Moore's cake-decorating class.

So after all those decorating classes, what did Christian want for his birthday?

An ice-cream cake.

*scratches head* I can't read this. It says:


Now why is he scratching his head? I trust they haven't taken to printing the newspaper upside down.

Another cake class specimen.

He not only requested tools for his birthday...

...he got excited about them too.

Sure, tools are great. But traditions are better.

And having the Jacksons over at least once a winter is something that needs to be written in stone.

Michael serves it.

Conrad passes it.

Grace eyes it up.

Maybe the next one, Grace. Hang in there.

It's not heavy; so it's not a book.

What?! Not a book? The Jacksons always give books.

(It was a book. On tape.)

One Morning

The little guy can smile.


(He just needed a moment to reconcile himself to appearing on the blog in girls' socks.)

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And if you need a moment to reconcile yourself to brevity of this post, so be it. Take your moment. :-)

God Bless.


Saturday, December 11, 2010

Hello Everyone,

The NCFIC likes to have their conferences on my blogging weeks. I like to go to their conferences. Uh, do we have a dilemma here?

Thanks to the Lord, I got my inspiration for this post several weeks ago which helped speed the "production time." It's Monday evening as I write this, and, as you read this, I will most likely be sitting in a lecture hall. Candace and Conrad are going along this time. So I'll have my faithful models at my side - er - at the end of my lens. We're traveling down with the Raines, who, as you know, make great subjects too. The following post will back up that statement, so with out farther ado or adieus...

A Trip to a Civil War Encampment

A real encampment with a real general.

And real artillery officers.

The women arrive at camp, determined to bring civilization with them.

They write home: "How can this be called the Civil War? It is anything but civil."

One day the peace is broken.

The alarm is spread: the Yankees are coming!

The general himself dismounts to correct a sloppily aimed cannon.

The women forget civilization and worry about self preservation.

And they pack, in case of retreat.

The first enemy sniper sets his sights on the camp.

The boys in the front lines bow their heads.

The drummer reaches for his drumsticks.

And then...

...somebody's cell phone rings.

What is that noise?!

Okay, I should have told you before. We were at the Raines for dinner, not at a Civil War camp. Almost had you tricked right? If only that cell phone hadn't given the show away.

Yeah, relax. This is just dress-up.

Yeah, and somebody dressed me up in the wrong time period. I want to be a man with a gun not...

...Colin Gunn.

So, Micah, do you turn your belt buckle right side up when you're in a blue uniform?

Loading the cannon is a coveted job.

People literally wait in line.

If playing cannonball is exciting...

...playing baseball is more so.

Candace, I doubt tossing a ball in the air and...

...catching it in a hat was considered a lady-like pastime in the 1800s.

The general retrieves his hat.

I may have been staring into the mouth of a cannon, but then, so were they.

I've heard of photographers having a "second shooter" to help them out.

Back to that lunch I mentioned earlier... It was fantastic.

And the camp was fantastic in the formal sense of the word.

Clayton discovered the wonder of noise a long time ago. The wonder is he hasn't yet tired of making it.

Phares discovers the wonders of the Raines' home. You can find anything there.

Is this a corpse?

She just had to make sure.

There's something anachronistic about flying a plane while wearing a Confederate uniform.

Don't try to tell me that flight interests men and women equally.

Birthday gifts exchanged.

We'll never tire of going to the Raines' home - of that I am certain. Thanks, Raines.

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God Bless.