Too Much Time On My Hands.

It's a little ridiculous the amount of time I wasted tonight by crawling around on the floor, balancing my camera on a pile of cookbooks and playing with every setting my camera has to offer.

I was bound an determined to get a decent photo of Hobie sleeping by the tree. It's not like I had anything better to do. I certainly don't have a final project due on Thursday. And obviously my lunch is packed for tomorrow and my outfit is also nicely ironed and ready to be worn. Right. 

You'd think I'd at least have the common sense to shut the TV off in the background.

After another dozen shots I realized two things: 

1. I have the laziest dog in the world.

2. I needed to shut the cabinet door.

That's better.

Then I moved in for the opposite angle.

Will someone please turn off my kitchen lights so you can't see the mess in there?

There we go.

Now can someone please brush my dog? 

If you set your shutter speed realllllly slow and then move your camera around in a zig zag motion you'll get really trippy shots. 

I can't imagine why no one wants to hire me as a professional photographer.

Let's try again. Focus, people.

So the magic formula is really low ISO (100) with a wide open apeture (f/16) and a slow as molasses shutter speed (30s).

Now if I could just get the dog to cooperate and clean herself up.

Ahhh, time well spent. 

That's at least an hour of my life I'll never get back.

Just for fun, a little black and white. I figure I've already wasted most of the evening, why not kill a little more time in editing?

I think I'll call this one Antique Hobie By The Christmas Tree. Creative, no?

Someone stop me.

Dear Santa, For Christmas this year I need a life. Thanks.

____________________________________

Workout: Cardio - ran on the TM 30 minutes, Weights - triceps and abs

Get this. As I was leaving the locker room a lady stopped me to tell me what a great runner I am. After I picked myself up off the floor and stopped laughing I asked if she had mistaken me for someone else. She asked where I get all my energy and I promptly told her that I save it all up by laying on the floor taking photos of my dog instead of doing real life activities and that I crank the treadmill up to 7.0 so I have to move quick or risk falling and breaking my neck. Thanks for the undeserved, but appreciated, compliment, lady. You made my day.

Our First (Real) (Mini) Christmas Tree.

Remember how The Canadian said he wanted a mini-tree and I told him that those don't exist? Yeah, well I was wrong. I hate it when that happens.

Isn't it cute? A little bare, a little short and just perfect for our dining room.

Since this is our first Christmas tree (!!) we also had to buy all the accessories that a real tree requires. I call it a tree stand, Maple calls it a water bowl.

Seeing as this is Maple's first experience with a real tree she decided to sniff it out and see what all the fuss was about. After a few licks she learned what a mouth full of sap tastes like. Ahhh, the bitter sweet taste of revenge.

Anyway, TC earned man points for putting our little Charlie Brown tree up all by himself. 

I was busy taking photos because I'm helpful like that.

The best part of our tree? The old school lights. They make me feel like I'm five years old again. I have vivid memories of big lights like these as my family's outdoor lights when I was a youngster. 

Hello, mom? Did I dream that or did we really have the big lights back then?

I tried to boss The Canadian around while we put the lights up but it was just easier to do it myself. Next year I'm going to try and not leaving a giant gaping black spot in the middle of the tree. 

Lesson learned.

Anyway, we spent the past year collecting ornaments everywhere we went. Those combined with the ornaments we got for Christmas last year and the ornaments I stole from my parent's house turned out to be the perfect amount to decorate our tree.

No matching, color coordinated, themed tree in this house. Nope, here we have a mismatched array that is exemplified by a space shuttle marked with the year of my birth.

In high school I spent my summers life guarding. A nanny at the pool made me a beautiful set of four hand painted ornaments for my high school graduation. I thought they were cool at the time but now that I finally have a real tree I absolutely love them.

Ummm, hello? What tree isn't complete with a sequin brontosaurus? Stole that baby from my mom, fair and square.

And you know the USA is representin'. Maybe if Canada was cool enough they could have their own ornament too.

Of course, there is a pyramid of cupcakes. Of course.





Obviously, the Chic-Fil-A cow has to make an appearance. Too bad no one around here appreciates the humor. These Canadians don't know what they're missing.





Despite an embarrassing season, I still have to show off my Tennessee love. Even if it is in the form of a craft-show snowman. Whatever, orange is orange.





First runner up in randomness (next to the dinosaur) is clearly the s'more. I have no explanation. I just thought he was funny.





The classic orange life jacket is just a precaution in case Maple starts drowning in the tree's water supply.

And finally, my favorite ornament from our first Christmas as old fuddy-duddies.

 

Looks pretty good, right?


Wait, let me focus a bit.

There we go. It's what my MIL calls a Norman Rockwell tree.

Will someone please get their butt in gear and wrap some presents?

I'll pay you in cookies.

_______________________________________

Workout: fast and furious. Cardio - 30 minutes, Weights: abs and biceps cicuit

Christmas Party Fun.

Is tomorrow really Monday? I'm not entirely sure where the weekend went. Oh, that's right. I was cleaning. And cooking. And then cleaning some more.

Somehow, the holiday party gods decided that it was my turn to host The Canadian's staff Christmas party. Sounds fun, right?

Sure it was fun. If you think cleaning and cooking for two days straight is a good time. It was fun if you think having only 12 people out of 40 show up because they were only given one week notice is a good time. It's fun if no one drinks your champagne punch because they are at the boss man's home and don't want to get too rowdy so instead you drink most of it yourself because allowing it to go to waste would be alcohol abuse. Okay, that part did mildly entertain me.

Anyway, the few faithful that did come over had a good time, I hope. I certainly did. It was totally worth it. Maybe next year we can really shoot for the stars and aim for 15 guests. Party! Party! Party!

As usual the monsters were absolutely no help at all. One of these days Hobie is going to grow an opposable thumb and start helping out with the work around here. This whole jump-on-the-table-and-eat-the-leftovers-while-no-one-is-looking thing does not count as cleaning up. In fact, it just made more of a mess by flinging dijon mustard all over the place. 

Does she actually think some gift of steak is going to magically appear under the tree for her?

I got news for you, dog. No amount of waiting and wishing is going to make Santa reward your bad behavior. Capeesh?