27.7.11
Day 88
When we were kids my parents used to take us on these seemingly endless road trips- hauling us along narrowly winding back roads, over plunging precipices with roaring cataracts hundreds of feet down, through forests arching close overhead. It didn't seem unusual then, but almost every day that drive included at least one ferry boat ride.
It really didn't bother us. In fact, it was usually the best part of the day. We were thrilled to be out of the vehicle- an old suburban with open windows for air conditioning and metal seat-belts that scorched your legs. I've got sepia-coloured memories of my little brother and I playing on the sandy beach, waiting for the ferry to come in, of building rafts from driftwood, lips blue from the glacier fed water. Getting back into the hot vehicle as the ferry docked, laughing as we watched the goosebumps on our arms disappear.
My dad would drive onto the boat and as soon as he put the suburban into park we were out the door again, begging our parents to let us watch the metal gates screech and slam shut. Then the boat would shudder as the motors started up and we'd race to the front, my parents walking unhurriedly behind us, hand in hand and smiling.
Have a great day :)
Love,
Hearts & Photos
23.7.11
Day 85
The last of the barnyard series. I think we're all going to miss their furry faces. HOWEVER!! Next week, we have some colour block portraits of the stunning Jenn (evidently colour blocking is in this season), a story of how I tried to give Jenn a heart attack, and some wonderfully nautical ferry boat photos.
Have a great weekend :)
Love,
Hearts & Photos
The last of the barnyard series. I think we're all going to miss their furry faces. HOWEVER!! Next week, we have some colour block portraits of the stunning Jenn (evidently colour blocking is in this season), a story of how I tried to give Jenn a heart attack, and some wonderfully nautical ferry boat photos.
Have a great weekend :)
Love,
Hearts & Photos
22.7.11
Day 84
Just between you and me, this one is my favourite of this series. That sad little calf face gets me right in the heart strings. The rooster, however, just makes me nervous. Like break-out-in-a-cold-sweat kinda nervous. Growing up my mom had chickens and when she had children of her own, she wanted to impart those lessons learned from raising livestock to them.
She's a smart lady, though. She knew her daughter too well to tell her that raising chickens was a chore invented to teach her the values of responsibility and hard work. Oh no. She knew that I would fight tooth and nail against that. Instead she did what any smart mother would do- take me to "visit" some baby chicks then act all wishy-washy when I begged her to let me take them all home (never mind the fact that the chicken coop was already built and waiting at this point).
Yes, my gullible 5-year-old self promised to love and care for those sweet, cuddly baby chicks forever, to feed them and water them every day if only she would let me take them home. She had me hook, line and sinker. She's very clever, that mother o' mine.
It isn't hard for a 5-year-old to fall in love with a fluffy yellow cotton-ball on legs, to spend most of the day ensuring they have water and food, that their heat lamp is on and they are warm and cozy, to make sure that their bed is clean and dry. But soon those cotton-balls grow up into moulting, pecking, egg laying beasties whose sole goal seems to be attacking the girl assigned to collecting said eggs. It didn't take long before the love between the chickens and I was long gone and opening the chicken coop door felt like walking into a lion's den.
The chickens seemed like they were built for war! Poke-y, bite-y beaks, razor sharp talons, and surprisingly hard, whip-like wings with which they defended their stronghold. Never mind that they couldn't actually hurt you with any of these weapons- it was just the idea that they were using them against you! They had every advantage- including flight! But I had the clever mind of a child (and a dog, who was definitely more effective than I had ever been, but I digress) and realized that I needed armour. Lots of it. Oddly enough, armour is not readily available on most farms so I came up with the next best thing- my snowsuit.
Never mind that it was August and probably 45 degrees in that chicken coop. I could finally defend myself against the chickens! The Reign of Terror had ended!
Later that fall, both the chickens and I found out about the guillotine, but that is an upsetting story for another time.
Vive la revolution! Vive la poule!
UPDATE: The dear mama read this and sent a couple pre-snowsuit chicken outfits, just to give a little context. Please enjoy my embarrassment :)
Love,
Hearts & Photos
Just between you and me, this one is my favourite of this series. That sad little calf face gets me right in the heart strings. The rooster, however, just makes me nervous. Like break-out-in-a-cold-sweat kinda nervous. Growing up my mom had chickens and when she had children of her own, she wanted to impart those lessons learned from raising livestock to them.
She's a smart lady, though. She knew her daughter too well to tell her that raising chickens was a chore invented to teach her the values of responsibility and hard work. Oh no. She knew that I would fight tooth and nail against that. Instead she did what any smart mother would do- take me to "visit" some baby chicks then act all wishy-washy when I begged her to let me take them all home (never mind the fact that the chicken coop was already built and waiting at this point).
Yes, my gullible 5-year-old self promised to love and care for those sweet, cuddly baby chicks forever, to feed them and water them every day if only she would let me take them home. She had me hook, line and sinker. She's very clever, that mother o' mine.
It isn't hard for a 5-year-old to fall in love with a fluffy yellow cotton-ball on legs, to spend most of the day ensuring they have water and food, that their heat lamp is on and they are warm and cozy, to make sure that their bed is clean and dry. But soon those cotton-balls grow up into moulting, pecking, egg laying beasties whose sole goal seems to be attacking the girl assigned to collecting said eggs. It didn't take long before the love between the chickens and I was long gone and opening the chicken coop door felt like walking into a lion's den.
The chickens seemed like they were built for war! Poke-y, bite-y beaks, razor sharp talons, and surprisingly hard, whip-like wings with which they defended their stronghold. Never mind that they couldn't actually hurt you with any of these weapons- it was just the idea that they were using them against you! They had every advantage- including flight! But I had the clever mind of a child (and a dog, who was definitely more effective than I had ever been, but I digress) and realized that I needed armour. Lots of it. Oddly enough, armour is not readily available on most farms so I came up with the next best thing- my snowsuit.
Never mind that it was August and probably 45 degrees in that chicken coop. I could finally defend myself against the chickens! The Reign of Terror had ended!
Later that fall, both the chickens and I found out about the guillotine, but that is an upsetting story for another time.
Vive la revolution! Vive la poule!
UPDATE: The dear mama read this and sent a couple pre-snowsuit chicken outfits, just to give a little context. Please enjoy my embarrassment :)
 |
| See what I mean? Baby chick love! |
 |
| Trying to use my brother as a diversion. I thought it was brilliant as he couldn't run. Mom kiboshed that idea pretty quickly. But you can see by my mittens that my plan for resistance was starting to take shape. |
Love,
Hearts & Photos
21.7.11
Day 83
You didn't think I'd go on holiday without bringing you back a little present, did you? Well, in this case that present might have been a little large- cows, horses and chickens (oh my!)- so I packaged them up into three neat little series and I'll post a new one each day. Delayed gratification, my friends, is the definition of maturity.
I must admit to you two things though:
1. I grew up on a farm and this is actually the first farm study I've ever done. Weird, right?
2. I shot these with digital. I'll wait for the gasps to subside. I know. It's terrible, but I've been playing with the idea of transitioning to digital photography for a little while and I wanted to use this trip to see if I'd actually be happy with the results. Ultimately I'm pretty darn satisfied, but I wouldn't use it for everything- there are still formats where film is far superior. It's just that the advantages for shooting digital are starting to outweigh my pocket book. Shooting film is expensive. Between the camera equipment, film, developing and scanning the negatives on top of the cost of making prints it can be really hard to work financially. Also, the quick turn around time with digital is pretty sweet. It's nice to not have to wait to finish a dozen rolls of film before I send them off to save money on shipping, which means you guys get to see my summer holiday photos in the ACTUAL SUMMER! Unheard of, I know.
And tomorrow, you'll get to see some more of them!
Have a great day :)
Love,
Hearts & Photos
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