This is one of the geese that lives across the street from my house.  He’s a stately fellow and doesn’t mind having his picture taken.  This picture is “right out of the box” as they say, which is to say I haven’t gone all artsy fartsy with it yet.

But as you know by now, I”m an artsy fartsy gal and can’t stop myself from screwing around with my pictures.  This is the same photo as the first one,  but using Picasa I cropped it, took the color up a notch and applied the soft focus feature.  Took all of about 10 seconds. I love Picasa for quick edits and minor improvements.

Here, I achieved the painterly, sparkly, Monet effect in Photoshop using the Bokeh brush which is a free download from Obsidian Dawn.  Bokeh is the Japanese word for broken. Not really. I just made that up.

Anyway, I just downloaded the Bokeh brushes this morning and haven’t really figured out how to use them, but as you can see, with the right photo editing software, you can basically be clueless and still get some fun effects.

I don’t know if that should inspire you or frighten you. You decide.

Early one morning last week, I glanced out my kitchen window and noticed a mourning dove perched upon the fence.  He paused to look around, as if making sure no one was looking.  He hopped sideways down the fence a few quick steps and then disappeared into an effusion of jasmine.

Dainty yellow buds shivered and fell away to the ground as he rustled around in the thicket. A few seconds later, he popped back up onto the fence, tried to look nonchalant, spread his graceful wings and flew away.

A minute later he was back again.  This time I noticed he had a small twig in his beak.  Once again, he looked around to make sure no one was watching, and once again he plopped down into the jasmine.  After another round of rustling and rummaging, he hopped back up on the fence and was off. Again.

I watched him off and on throughout the morning. He must have made 30 trips back and forth to the jasmine, each time carrying a tiny twig.

Later that afternoon, my curiosity got the better of me.  I had to see what was going on, so I quietly crept down the driveway towards the jasmine to take a look.

This time of year the aroma of Carolina jasmine is so thick and sweet it makes your head hurt and so bright and pretty it makes your heart ache.  I stood on my tiptoes and carefully pulled back a long wayward leafy tendril.  There in the middle of a tangle of vines was a mama dove, almost the exact same shade of gray as the weathered wooden fence.  An eye, perfectly black and round,  stared back at me.  She made no move to send me away, but sat as silent and still as a stone.  I gently let the vine down, as though I were drawing a curtain, and left her to her privacy.

The next several days brought cold, razor sharp rain and whip cracking wind.  After the storms passed, I peeked in on my dove to see how she had fared.  I thought I might find an abandoned nest or worse.  But there she was.  Undaunted, she blinked the rain from her eyes and continued to sit patiently on her nest.  No amount of misery was going to separate her from her eggs.

I let down the vine and left her once again to the business of brooding. As I walked back up the driveway, my mind was filled with the pitiful image of her protecting her beloved eggs with her own body as rain pelted her head and the wind rattled her delicate home of twigs.

I would do the same.  The very same ancient and unseen thing that drives the mourning dove to suffer any discomfort, to bear any burden, to do whatever it takes to see her babies safely out of the nest… drives me too.

After judging her Write Away contest for the month of April, Scribbit, the loveliest of all Alaskans,  asked if she could interview me.  I am powerless to say no to Scribbit. And couldn’t seem to resist the opportunity to navel gaze a little bit.  You may read the interview here if you would like.

While you are there, check out her new eBook “Blogging in Pink”  written especially for women bloggers – and it’s free.  She also has a fantastic newsletter, also free, that is loaded with lots of good stuff that you won’t want to miss.  Scrib is all about giving and I love that about her.

So what are you telling your children about the Swine Flu?  Are you talking to them about it, and if so, to what degree?  How would you rate your level of concern?   Are you planning to change anything, travel plans or whatever, because of it?

You know, the thing about having a camera is that sometimes the people you hang out with get tired of you pointing it at them.  It’s true. I was in Tuna this past weekend and the only one who wouldn’t run away from me was Margie.  So now, Margie is my muse.

I present to you, the lovely and mesmerizing – Margie!

Pensive Margie

Come Hither Margie

Contemplative Margie

Serene  Margie

Meditative Margie.  Or, Margie Nods Off.  Shortly thereafter, Margie got up and wandered off.

Oh hey! My old muse! Yo! Dude!

Muse! Come back! Where ya’ goin??

This guy was either really afraid of me or really turned on by me. Or like AD, both.

Yesterday, I was multitasking, which is always a dangerous proposition for a blonde type person like me.

I was sitting on the sofa doing some computer work while taking turns with Sean shooting a Nerf gun at some targets he had set up in the window across the room.

“Mom!” he said, demanding my attention. “Mom, it’s your turn!”

He offers me the gun and the spongy bullets, but I’ve got my hands full of laptop.

“Reload the gun for your mama, will you please,” I said.

If you’ve ever uttered those words to your five-year-old…you might just be a redneck.

Guess who won Scribbit’s April Write Away contest? You can find out here!  I had the privilege of picking the winner but I didn’t know the identity of the author until this morning.  She’s one of my favorite commenters here at Antique Mommy and an excellent writer with an unique perspective.

It was a delightful honor to get to read all 56 submissions. And it was hard!  Not because there were so many to read but because they all touched my heart in some way and I wanted everyone to win.  If you didn’t win, don’t feel too badly. I’ve entered Scriibbit’s Write Away contest before and I didn’t win either!

Congrats to the winner, the honorable mentions and all the people who took the time to submit an essay!

In other writing news…

I have this friend, Kay Thomas, whom I have known for (GULP!) 15 years.  I’ve known her since I was seven. I swear.  Anyway, it turns out that Kay is an author. And I had no idea until just recently. She has written not one book, but a bunch of them. Kay writes romance thrillers for Harlequin.  How did I not know that all this time?  About once a year, I see Kay at the Christmas party of a mutual friend, and when I see this face, I’m thinking carpool mom.  Who knows what romance and intrigue lurks in the hearts of carpool moms?  Apparently not me.

Anyway, Kay has two new books out – “Better Than Bulletproof” and a continuation in that line of intrigue with “Bulletproof Texas”.  Her books have been given 4 ½ and 5 stars by star-giving people. That’s good.  Anyway, here’s the official synopsis below:

“Better Than Bulletproof” — Gina Rodgers, a struggling advertising artist, has just landed the account of a lifetime when her sister mysteriously disappears and leaves behind a five-year-old autistic son. Even though she has no idea how to deal with her nephew’s overwhelming needs, Gina drops everything in her Dallas job and travels to Mississippi to care for Adam and look for her sister. There she discovers an unexpected ally in the child’s play therapist, Harlan Jeffries, an ex-military sniper seeking redemption through working with special needs children.

“Bulletproof Texas” — The bulletproof action continues in this romantic suspense thriller about a pharmaceutical research scientist and a brooding caving guide who are forced to work together extracting cancer-eating bacteria from a flooding Texas Hill Country cave. As sparks fly and passions rise, so do the dangers when a competitor decides this potential cure shouldn’t see the light of day–and is willing to kill anyone who gets in the way.

If you would like to win an autographed set of Kay’s two new books, leave me a comment telling me this:  If you were the star of a Harlequin romance novel, what would your name be?

Mine would be Chenille Robeson.

Your turn.

* * *
UPDATE:  Winner! #37, Sarah, um I mean Lynn Little Rock, who writes Beauty In The Mundane.

The contest is officially over but please feel free to leave a comment with your Harlequin Romance name!

I was in the kitchen when I heard the sound of crying coming from the backyard.  The wailing was muffled by the windows but I could tell that he had hurt himself.  And because I am his mother, I could also tell it was an injury that could be fixed with a band-aid and a kiss, or at worst, a popsicle.  So I finished what I was doing before making my way to the scene of the accident.

When I got outside, he was in his father’s arms. Big juicy crocodile tears were spilling down his cheeks.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, “Are you okay?”

“Noooo!” he howled as he reached both arms straight out for me, his face artificially twisted in anguish.

He sobbed into my neck as I carried him into the house.  I sat him down on the kitchen counter to inspect the injuries and he showed me the palms of his hands. They were slightly pink and smarting from where he had caught himself when he had fallen on the concrete. He showed me his knees.  Also slightly pink.  A thorough search was made, but not one drop of blood could be found.  I looked into his dirty little boy face. His tears had left a trail of clean. I tried not to smile given the gravity of the situation.

I told him how sorry I was that he had hurt himself and I wrapped my arms around him.  He clutched me tight around the neck and worked up a few more sobs which he bellowed into my ear to demonstrate the searing pain he was suffering.  “My sweet boy” I whispered over and over into his ear as I gently rocked him from side to side.

He continued to work it, the crying, for another half minute as I held him close.  Not because he was still hurt, but because….  Well, just because.