One of the first things I did today was scrapped a layout and I dug into the old pictures for that. We're talking a photo that was taken before we went digital with our camera equipment. I've gotten so spoiled by the fabulous quality of my camera that the scan looked horrible so I did some selective coloring and turned the rest b&w.
Scrapping this one was a not-so-gentle reminder that my babies are certainly not babies any longer! My tiny baby Nicholas, just two days old there is now taller than 95% of other kids his age according to the height charts and little Miss Madison is now a impish 3rd grader who constantly keeps me guessing. I certainly don't know where 7+ years have gone, that's for sure.
I have been holed up in the house all weekend and I'm not really feeling too motivated to go outside. When looking out the bathroom window this morning I noticed an icicle hanging from our house that appears to be longer than I am tall. I considered going outside and getting a shot of it but quickly discarded the idea, not wanting to risk blowing snow touching my camera.
Ok. That's a lie.
I didn't want to bundle up and trudge through the snow in my front yard. But dismissal on the grounds of protecting my beloved camera equipment sounds a lot better than saying I'm not willing to go out in the cold for a few minutes.
My day wasn't didn't really consist of anything out of the ordinary. We did have a conversation with Madison about MLK day and why she has tomorrow off of school. We also played the I Have a Dream speech and gave her some background on why MLK is important to our nations history.
After the conversation I pondered something that I'd never really thought about before...I know that the hotel King was staying in is now a Civil Rights Museum and I know that they painstakingly recreated the room he stayed in as it was that day he was shot and I thought to myself...that's a bit creepy. Then I immediately felt guilty for thinking that. I'm sure the sight of that room has a very profound affect on many, if not all people who visit it, but I just can't get over how the concept weirds me out. I guess I think enshrining the room mere feet away from where he was gunned down is somewhat of a disservice and somehow contrary to his message. I don't know....but what I do know is that I wouldn't want anyone to create that sort of shrine in the event of my death.
And now you have a glimpse into some of the unusual thoughts my brain touch on throughout any given day.
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