This is a topic of concern, directly or indirectly, to everyone, particularly the elderly.
A great sequence of pics. How many subjects would tolerate such a drenching? I hope she had some dry clothes into which she could change?
You know how much I like going out and taking photos. Yesterday I took a trip to Point Lonsdale, one daughter driving with the “L”‘s on and the other in the back seat with her friend who was being my model for the day. I had tried to take photos of Kelly before, and it rained, so no photos. As soon as we got to Point Lonsdale, you guessed it, it was raining. She was happy to do it anyway, so we went ahead.
I think she lived to regret those words. The tide was coming in and she got wet. She was a trooper and we went on. Now, I haven’t processed any of the photos yet, but I have to share with you a series of images I took yesterday. I will put them in a gallery, but they were so good, I have to share them unprocessed.
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Worth thinking about!
By Caitlin Kelly
Trophies were once rare things — sterling silver loving cups bought from jewelry stores for truly special occasions. But in the 1960s, they began to be mass-produced, marketed in catalogs to teachers and coaches,
and sold in sporting-goods stores.
Today, participation trophies and prizes are almost a given, as children are constantly assured that they are winners. One Maryland summer program gives awards every day — and the “day” is one hour long. In
Southern California, a regional branch of the American Youth Soccer Organization hands out roughly 3,500 awards each season — each player gets one, while around a third get two. Nationally, A.Y.S.O. local
branches typically spend as much as 12 percent of their yearly budgets
It adds up: trophy and award sales are now an estimated $3 billion-a-year industry in the United States and Canada. Po…
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A smile is like a ray of sunshine to brighten another persons day. It encourages. But it must be spontaneous and genuine. It should only be bestowed when it is safe and justified.
By Caitlin Kelly
Here’s a powerful essay from The New York Times about one mother’s ferocious, non-smiley 10-year-old daughter, Birdy.
A few excerpts:
I am a radical, card-carrying feminist, and still I put out smiles indiscriminately, hoping to please not only friends and family but also my son’s orthodontist, the barista who rolls his eyes while I fumble apologetically through my wallet, and the ex-boyfriend who cheated on me. If I had all that energy back — all the hours and neurochemicals and facial musculature I have expended in my wanton pursuit of likedness — I could propel myself to Mars and back. Or, at the very least, write the book “Mars and Back: Gendered Constraints and Wasted Smiling.”…
Birdy is polite in a “Can you please help me find my rain boots?” and “Thank you, I’d love another deviled egg” kind of way. But when strangers talk to her…
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