Maia and her first kitten

At the end of Noah's school year this year, all the pre-school classes and the kindergarten class visited one of the teacher's farms. What an amazing farm it was, too. I think I had just as much fun (but probably more fun, hehe) as the kids. I was in heaven :) We played with dogs, puppies, cows, horses, roosters (just watched those as they aren't nice animals!), and goats. We also played with a litter of kittens.

I grew up on a farm so we had litters upon litters of kittens every year. They were always a part of my "family" and I could probably name all 100 of them over my 16 years still today :c) Because of that, it was incredibly special for me to see Maia have her first experience seeing, and then holding, a kitten. Love is written all over her face while the kitten's face clearly reads panic :c)

Happy Love Thursday!

Passion is where passion is born.

I have came along way from being 8-years old working hard at my first job on the farm in the bean fields. I still can't believe it some days that I am a photographer in a business that is solely mine.

While in Oklahoma a month ago, I had the opportunity to meet my newest niece right after she was born in the hospital before her first bath. And when she was brought home, I had so many fabulous opportunities to take photographs of the sweet pea.

And then when back home, I had the fun opportunity to design her birth announcement. Every single step of the process so fun and rewarding.

I am so blessed to have this job. It just kind of flows in my life. I think that's when you know it's what you were meant to do. Like it's something that has always been there but I didn't know I could actually make money doing. Who would ever imagine you could make money doing the thing you love to do most?! I think this holds true deep in everyones hearts. It's when you discover that your passion can turn into something bigger that you know you are living the life God created you to live.



There can't be many more exciting and more rewarding jobs out there than what I do, but I guess when what you do is your passion, you do think that there can't be anything better out there, right?! What a great feeling to know that what you are doing is what you were born to do.

Thank goodness walking beans wasn't the lifelong plan for me. I definitely would have the best tan out of anyone else, but I'd also be the dirtiest and probably the grumpiest. Farm life was amazing and one of the best experiences I have ever had, but I am so so thankful that I was made to be a photographer. Living and working on the farm taught me so many life long lessons, however. Ones that helped mold me into the person and photographer I am today. I just know I wouldn't have had such strong determination and passion if I hadn't walked beans and if I hadn't seen how passionate my dad was for his job as a farmer . . . one of the hardest jobs on our planet. I thank him for showing me what determination and will looks like.



So tell me . . . how could a job be any better when you get to see this?! It really is hardly a job at all sometimes . . .

I know, she's pretty darn cute, isn't she?? Newborn hair, newborn yawns, newborn skin, newborn smell . . . so precious and such a gift. A true gift from God.



Welp, back to doing the CHORE I like doing most . . . vacuuming.

"15 Years Ago . . ."

I like to head back to my old blog at Yahoo 360 that I started back in 2006 from time to time. I ran across one post that I thought I would post o'er here. It's called "15 Years Ago". Hope you take the time to read . . .

15 years ago I moved, at the age of 15, from the place I was born and raised, R.R. #1 Box 317. A place that will always be my "home". A place that will forever hold the most amazing memories growing up. A place where I had so many "firsts". A place I will never forget.

My dad was a farmer. He had some really great years of farming and some really bad ones as well. Even though there were more good years than bad, it was those few bad years that brought our lives on the farm, under. We lived through a couple intensely straining years of droughts, making us next to no money, and it was those years that made us unable to thrive there any longer. I can still remember vividly the moment dad sat us down in the living room as a family to tell us the news that we had to give up the farm, and that dad had to find a new job and most likely we'd be moving far away. Until that point in my life, the experience of moving was the hardest thing I had faced I think because it was the farthest thing from my mind. Being an emotionally attached person to things and memories (like my mom), it was a really difficult experience. One that is pretty cemented in my heart and soul. One that will probably always have an impact on me. I learned without certainty, where my heart would reside forever. I absolutely loved the farm and those memories are forever cherished.

Tonight I had a family picture session in Argenta, my hometown. Afterwards I decided since I didn't have my kids with me, that I'd go down memory lane. I drove by my old high school. Well, what was left of it. Most of it, but the old gym, has been torn down and rebuilt. I hadn't seen it yet, and it was a big shocker to see it totally revamped like it is. It's really really nice. The 2-year wait was definitely worth it for the kids and teachers that are there now. The hardest thing for me, again, are the memories that I have in those buildings. My grandma and grandpa went to school there. They met there. Neil and I met there. There's a lot of ancestory in those buildings. I'm very proud of that. Not many these days can say they went to the same school that their grandparents (and other family members) did.

After going by the school, I decided to drive by Neil's old house, and then my old house. I stopped at the end of the lane to my old farm house and sat there, thinking, should I just drive on up? Knowing that the man who lived there died a few months ago, I went up the quarter-mile lane. I'm really glad I did.

The corn was high so I couldn't see the house till I drove the whole 1/4 mile. When I first saw the house I was in disbelief. I expected to see it how I left it 15 years ago. It was still the same house, but it was extremely run down. A few of the barns were gone, many of the trees were gone, the bridge over the creek was gone, the pump house was gone, lots of the landscaping was gone. It didn't look very good at all. I got out of my car and started taking pictures of things that I wanted to remember visually. So I walked around the entire farm. It took me about 45 minutes, but it was perfect. Just me and my camera, walking around the place I once ran around as a naive little girl.

I saw the old basketball hoop that my dad put up for Chris and I. The old pumps were all still there in various places. The sidewalks were the same, as well as the big rock in the front yard that my dad found many many years ago. My tree, which was once a seedling in 4th grade, was there and bigger than I had ever imagined. I guess that's what happens when you see it as a tree that's now 21 years old. I saw the old tree house and the steps leading up to it. They just hung from a single nail. I could not believe those were still there. I peeked into the machine shed and saw dad's old work bench. I also peeked into the house itself and saw our old wood-burning stove that Chris and I went with dad to get when we were tots. The kettle was still on the top of it. I also saw the stairs leading up to my bedroom and the front porch with the same old wood door. That porch is where I first saw my first bike, where I stood with my pumpkins that I called "bumpkin" at 1-1/2 years old, where I housed my kittens when it stormed. Oh the memories.

The house is not lived in. And the owner, the same one who owned it when we lived there, is in his 90's. I wonder what is going to happen to it? Neil and I have on occasion talked about it, wondering if it's worth looking into buying perhaps? Nothing in the house is really salvagable, it's that run down. But the structure is probably good. I would be tickled to death if that's something we could do. I guess it doesn't hurt to check into it. Through the tears I thought to myself this evening how amazing it would be to raise my own kids there. Maybe just maybe this is why I went out there? To discover that "this" is where we are meant to be?

Anyhow, I just had to share my little 45 minute experience. Even if I never ever go back there again, I feel at peace now. I've always had a hard time dealing with the move - we literally auctioned 15+ years of our family's life away - and I never ever thought I'd go back. But going back was like saying goodbye one last time. And I felt really good doing it this time.

The reason why I posted this is that our farm house has finally been put on the market. My mom asked me this past weekend if I wanted to go with my dad to the open house. (She couldn't even fathom thinking about going.) At first I thought I wanted to go . . . to go with dad and see it with him. But then I thought about it and decided not to. I already made my peace. I don't need to see it again looking as sad as it is now. I don't remember it as a sad place but as a very happy one. I want to continue remembering it like that. But I did want dad to be able to go so that he could make some peace with it, too. I know that the move was probably harder on him than anyone, he just never expressed that. I have a feeling whoever buys the house and the out-buildings, that they will tear the house down. I think that will be one of the hardest days of my life when I hear that it's no longer there. I wish it were us buying it and making it live-able, but we just can't. Not at this time in our lives.

It just amazes me as I grow older, how things change like they do. When you are younger, you never anticipate change ever happening. I don't even think as a child I knew what change was. You don't see yourself ever growing older and you don't see memories ever fading. Life. It's a confusing crazy ever-changing thing. But a good thing.

This is me in front of the house on the farm. * sob *

Farm shoot

I had a great opportunity last May to do a shoot on a farmer's farm, taking shots of him planting during planting season. Farmer "TM", I'll call him, takes great pride in his farm and in his tractors.

I really enjoyed that morning getting to do this. I got to ride out with his "hired help" on a truck in the middle of his field and take a roll of pictures from the back of the truck, and while it was windy and dirty and not a very girly thing for me to do . . . I truly loved it. The smell of dirt brought back so many memories of living on the farm I grew up on. The John Deeres made me smile because that was what my dad, uncle and grandpa used very loyally . . . never anything else. It made me really miss that life *tears* but I felt completely honored to have the opportunity. How many other photographers would have appreciated that like I did?

So TM, he had this vision of a panoramic photo with the entire picture desaturated with the John Deere still in color. He wanted the "arm" on the planter to be coming out at a certain direction and he wanted the tractor at just a certain spot. He knew what he want and I loved that! It made me see how much pride he took in his job and his machinery. I think all farmers do!

So here is the final piece. I hadn't seen it since it was framed, so TM's wife sent me a picture of it just today. The picture is 3-1/2 feet wide and was placed above their couch. This was a bit harder for me than what it normally would have been because I was still using film when I shot this. The process of having film scanned at a very high resolution made it take a lot longer than what it normally does now with the ease of digital photography.

I take pride in this picture now and have a feeling TM and his wife do also.