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Ah the joys of remodelling. Some day I hope to be done with remodelling. We are not tempermentally oriented that way. Some people love it. I like my creativity in other areas. But while we have the room cleaned out, I took the opportunity yesterday to take some pictures of Miranda. She hates to hold still, but I love to take photos anyway.
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I finished my online class this week. It was fun, but it is also nice to have completed it successfully. Now I have to concentrate on writing the content for the course itself. It is good to be busy, but difficult as well. As far as photography is concerned, I haven’t done a lot but I did have the chance to do a newborn the other day which was a lot of fun. He has a two year old sister as well and it reminded me of when Ethan was born. How fast the years fly by when you look back. There are difficult times at every age which you wish would fly by but there are so many beautiful moments as well. Those are the ones I remember most.
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I just read about the northern most town in the world somewhere in Norway I think. A thousand or so people people live there. This month they had their first peek at the sun in nearly 5 months. They have five months of night a year. It makes me feel not so bad about living in Randolph. True, it is March and we are still inches deep in snow and slush and ice which will soon be muck. But still, we often have blue skies above, and I can use the light from the window to take photos of tulips I buy in the supermarket.
The people who live in that Norwegian town say they love it there. It is the best place to live in the world. And who’s to argue. It’s all a matter of perspective after all. I suspect photographers get used to night photography.
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By February, the snow and cold seem to wear a little on the mind and soul, as if it will never thaw. But every now and then, even though it still cold, if we look around, we can find beauty even in the cold.
The frost has been lovely. It almost looks like it has snowed, but it is just the crystals formed through the fog.
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