Happy Birthday, Joshua!
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Scouting Around
After months of deliberation, delay, deliquency, and debate...Joshua finally finished his Eagle Project. Upon completion of the "ordeal," I asked Joshua some questions about the experience. Here's a small bit of the conversation:Q: What was your project?A: Making "phonic phones."Q: Why would you do that?A: Because my mom told me to.Q: I see...And whom, exactly, are the phones supposed to help?A: Me, to get my license (M told J that he couldn't drive until he had his Eagle...hence the frequent debates about the fairness and necessity of the whole thing).Q: Ah, well, according to your Plan, who will benefit from your phonic phones?A: (in a very official sounding voice) 'These devices will be of benefit to students during reading/speaking instruction time and an aid to teachers, as well, in their classroom management." Ta da!
(This picture collage is an attempt to "scrapbook" with a new app called "Project Life." I really like the app, but haven't figured out, yet, how to transfer my "creations" here. I'll have to try again (and again, and again, and again...).
(This picture collage is an attempt to "scrapbook" with a new app called "Project Life." I really like the app, but haven't figured out, yet, how to transfer my "creations" here. I'll have to try again (and again, and again, and again...).
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
me
I once read that a person can never see their actual face; mirror image, yes, but never the real thing.
I'm not sure why, but that kind of freaks me out.
I've gone cross-eyed trying to prove the statement wrong, and, in fact, have seen the tip of my nose, the tops of my cheeks, and my upper lip when puckered for a big ol' smack-a-roo (SMOOCH!).
I still haven't, however, seen what it is that others view of, or in my face.
I've never really seen my face in pictures, either. Seldom do I recognize that person there in print.
Or, (and this is the really freaky part: freaky in the way that I might not know what my laundry soap smells like to others), maybe pictures do show a perfect representation, and that really is what I look like...
Not that it really matters one way or the other, because either way, this is me. Still, I wonder.
Just this week, though, I was filming my two-year-old nephew as he sang "Let it Go" while caressing his fake blonde hair, when he told me it was his turn to take pictures of me. I obliged and diligently smiled through the photo-shoot. And, funny thing is, although most of the pictures were of my hands, the counter, or the refrigerator, Ben also caught me.
This actually is how I see myself.
And, just in case you were wondering, this is how Ben sees himself, blonde tresses and all:
I'm not sure why, but that kind of freaks me out.
I've gone cross-eyed trying to prove the statement wrong, and, in fact, have seen the tip of my nose, the tops of my cheeks, and my upper lip when puckered for a big ol' smack-a-roo (SMOOCH!).
I still haven't, however, seen what it is that others view of, or in my face.
I've never really seen my face in pictures, either. Seldom do I recognize that person there in print.
Or, (and this is the really freaky part: freaky in the way that I might not know what my laundry soap smells like to others), maybe pictures do show a perfect representation, and that really is what I look like...
Not that it really matters one way or the other, because either way, this is me. Still, I wonder.
Just this week, though, I was filming my two-year-old nephew as he sang "Let it Go" while caressing his fake blonde hair, when he told me it was his turn to take pictures of me. I obliged and diligently smiled through the photo-shoot. And, funny thing is, although most of the pictures were of my hands, the counter, or the refrigerator, Ben also caught me.
This actually is how I see myself.
And, just in case you were wondering, this is how Ben sees himself, blonde tresses and all:
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