For 100 years from now

I have been reading Little House on the Prairie to the X-Factor. She refers to it as "Little House on the Prarium." Makes me wonder if she is envisioning dolphins and sharks swimming in the Kansas creek beds.

Being reminded of the brevity of life on this earth (Please click on the link to the left-- My 30 days-- if you'd like to know more) I decided to have some of our every day, seemingly ordinary moments captured by the camera.

I gave Dr. N. our FugiFilm S 3000 and asked him to take a few natural shots while we read. I didn't expect him to go all Jaime Kesler on me, which totally cracked me up and explains to you why there are so many pictures... including one of my foot. He's a talented man, but his photography skills are not quite at Jaime's level...but not all that bad for an amateur either. Plus, ya gotta love him for trying. And, you've gotta love me for NOT including the ones he took of my backside as I bent over to pick up the book. Yep, he's a peach.

After downloading the pictures, I cringed. I don't need to write that they are not flattering shots of yours truly. My neck has disappeared and I seem to look at least 15 pounds heavier than I do in my mirror. And that white short-sleeved sweater? I can never wear that again. What made me think it looked good on me. I almost deleted every shot. Almost. Then I stopped.

I decided to post the pictures because one day my daughter may be missing me. When that day comes, this blog may be long and gone but hopefully in one of those "blog to book" formats. She can then go to that scrapbook of sorts and look at pictures that will bring her back to sweet times. Maybe she'll even remember how my lips felt as I kissed the top of her head. Perhaps she'll laugh as she remembers her daddy clowning around with the camera.

And my disheveled appearance? Well, perhaps that will also bring hope to her heart. She'll know that even though her mom wasn't glamorous, she loved her enough to be captured looking a bit worn. No make up, messy hair, dark circles around the eyes...that's OK..she can flip through my wedding album if she wants to see my hair coiffed. But if she just wants to peer through the windows of time and look at her mom who looks tired because she was up at 2 am searching for blankie, these are the photos to view. Not clips of a picture perfect hot mama (if such photos of me ever existed), but of a mommy who had a tough day but curled up on her bed to read a classic story, and thought it precious enough to photograph.

Maybe she'll even remember the personal stories I interjected and the quirky way I bent my knees and curled my toes. Most of all, I want her to remember how much she was loved by her unglamorous mom.





Incidentally, did you know that Laura Ingalls Wilder lived to be 90 years old? She died in 1957. Can you imagine? She was a pioneer girl who lived to see electricity and all its wonders.