Mama needs a new lens

So, I splurged a little and bought a new portrait lens for my Nikon a few months ago. I thought it might come in handy when the baby arrives. It's been a bit tricky learning how to use it - no zoom function which is hard to adjust to - but luckily I have a few friends with some very precious little practice subjects:




Darling Ellie, 8 mos. old. Like most babies her age, she was much more interested in eating the grass than taking pictures, but we managed to snap a few good ones in between grazing sessions. She is such a little doll, and I love her red hair!




My buddy Harrison, who has the sweetest little spirit for a three-year old. He's coming over today to play with our dogs (and my vacuum - this kid LOVES vacuums!). He's also on mom's phone quite a bit so he and I do a fair amount of texting.




His precious baby sister Avery, who just turned one and is the most active little thing you've ever seen. She is into everything and keeps mama on her toes, but you can't really get mad at her, because she has these magic little curls and long, long lashes.

This lens (a 50mm, f/1.8) takes advantage of the available natural light, which makes for a prettier picture, and as my friend Caroline noted, the lack of zoom forces you to be creative with your composition. It's also great for lower lighting situations and brings the subject into sharp focus while giving off that nice, fuzzy background. I think kids might be marginally easier to shoot than dogs, especially with a lens like this. Here's one I got of the pups after many (many) outtakes in which one/both dogs were not in the frame -

The golden light

Oh, you thought we were done with indulgent dog posts did you? Well, you'd be wrong. I had so much fun taking these two out during the golden light and snapping pictures while Miller ran them around. What is it about the country that makes the light so delicious?


There is something inspiring about the pure joy these two get out of having our full attention. They require so little of us, just love. They don't mind if we didn't see that their water bowl was empty, or that we didn't realize they needed to go outside before we ran to the store (who again authorized this parenting thing??). It's the biggest treat for them to get to spend time with us like this, and I'm pretty sure they were aware of that. Life turns heavenly when we toss the ball - or in this case, the freaky octopus bunny - in the sunshine.

Bliss.

Fetch, two ways:


Maddie fetches anything and has a tough time giving it up, even though she desperately wants you to throw it again. She'll fetch until she keels over from exhaustion and will dive from six feet high into the pool for a toy.



Georgia will fetch nothing, ever, but will run after the toy you've thrown and jubilantly return to you, hoping the object has magically teleported itself back into your hands so you can play that fun game again. She's a special one.


Sweet sleepy pup, with her best friend Eeyore. These two do everything together.
These two were t.i.r.e.d for the rest of this trip and practically comatose a few days after. We can't wait to return to Settlers Crossing next spring, with both the dogs and the Peanut in tow. I sincerely hope they take as much delight in her as they do in us (and I'm pretty sure she'll find everything they do hilarious).

Maybe it's time we got back to the basics of love

-Let's go to Luckenbach, Texas, with Waylon and Willie and the boys -


Jerry Jeff, Waylon, and others have written songs about this almost mythical Texas town, which consists of an all-in-one post office/general store/bar, an outdoor stage and an old dance hall. Jerry Jeff described it pretty accurately – it ain't nothin fancy, just kids and ranches and clean white shirts and jeans. I'd probably add friendly bikers to that list. It's your ultimate little dive in the middle of nowhere and we've been many times before, but thought since it was just down the road from our place, we ought to stop and cap off our day. Every time I've been there's someone playing guitar out back, and it's just a nice way to end the afternoon.

Here's a few things you're likely to find in Luckenbach:


Hats for sale


Country bands playing "Faded Love"


Kiddos modeling their fancy new pink cowboy hats (they were turning in circles saying, "Ole! Ole!")


Weathered cowboy poets (aka the legendary Walt Perryman)


Chickens
That last item had the red dog mighty riled up, and we experienced for probably not the last time what it's like to have to make a quick exit while pulling a screeching little heathen behind us. She was disturbing the peace so we took that as our signal to head on home.


Don't forget to sign the guest book on your way out!

Here's a poem of Walt's to get you in the Luckenbach spirit:

The Hill of life
By Walt Perryman (2004)

When we are young, we seem to have no fear.
We tend to think we will always be here.

Wasted days and nights, we seem to think is no big deal.
But that all stuff changes when we start down the hill.

Up hill is growing up, raising a family and working to succeed.
But, when you go over the hump, life starts picking up speed.

Once on top of the hill for a little while you might feel a little bold.
Then one day you wake up and realize that you are already old.

I noticed my age one day when I walked into a old antique store,
It dawned on me how all of that old stuff did not look very old any more.

When I have a pain I think of that old TV show Sanford and Son.
Whe I start hurting I want to holler, “Honey! I think this is the big one.”

If you are not going down hill, you do not know what I mean.
I do not even buy bananas if they are very green.

Here are some good things about growing old that might be true,
Kidnappers probably will not be very interested in you.

When you buy something while you are going down hill,
If they say it will last a life time, well it probably will.

But I try to not worry about the future nor dwell on yesterday’s sorrow.
I will be happy and have fun today, just in case I am not here tomorrow.

Good ol Fred

I've been coming through Fredericksburg for as long as I can remember, on the way down to and from camp in the summers; usually just a stop for lunch, maybe a little shopping, but a even a little time in Fredericksburg is good for the soul.

Over the past ten years or so, dear old Fred has really transformed from a charming, sleepy hill country town to a bit of a not-so-well kept secret on the antiques and design scene. The emergence of the store Red is a prime example of this, and oh my sweet jesus did I go crazy in this place.

I'm a bit of a design junkie on all fronts - textile, interiors, paper; they will all probably find their way here from time to time. I was told before this trip (/Miller was warned) I would love this place, and that was perhaps a bit of an understatement. I could have stayed here all day, and then asked to sleep in one of their sumptuous bedding displays. The airy space is a mix of understated modern and vintage furnishings and deliciously colorful graphic textiles, with carefully curated knick-knacks and accessories sprinkled throughout. I was seriously smitten with every inch and found it difficult to take it all in.

I've been in "browse don't buy" mode for a few years now, since I'm not allowed make any major purchases for our house until we settle into "The House" - the one we actually own. Until then, it's living with the hand-me-downs and furniture we already had, which has been a fun challenge in its own right (resulting in some makeovers here and there to keep things fresh). But I've never been so tempted and on the spot inspired, and the only way he got me out of the store only $100 lighter was by promising I could return with a more substantial budget when The House is in the picture. A tour of my favorite things:



When I spotted the Sophie Digard scarf, I felt like they'd crawled up into my brain and pulled out all its favorite contents. She's a Parisian textile designer whose crochet work I've admired for years, but I've never seen one up close. I'm not sure I would ever even wear one of these (very expensive) scarves, but I absolutely admire her talent and use of color.

Other things you might discover on a stroll through Fredericksburg:


Pretty rooms of antiques, organized by color


Old Broncos, young cowboys


Local jam, jam samples. More jam. Closed Sundays.


Hidden patios

There were a few boutiques down toward the end of our long day of strolling that were pretty tempting too, but luckily I had my trusty kryptonite shield in tow. He keeps me rational while perusing adorable but pricey baby clothes ($50 for a lightweight summer bubble, I understand now, is a little unreasonable; in the moment however, it's a tougher call). At the end of the day, we stuck to our budget and came away with a pretty necklace (thank you husband!) & zipper bag from Red, jams and salsas, and a few little gifts for the peanut:


Baby Luckenbach t-shirt, the Suzette fox by blabla who I have been coveting for some time now, and a bit of yarn for a baby blanket, now in progress.

Settlers' Crossing

We arrived at our little cottage at Settlers Crossing in the late afternoon, just in time to kick our shoes off for a bit before heading to dinner.






Our little cottage, with two doors (we aren't sure the original purpose of that?) and an old barn

Fredericksburg is filled with cute B&Bs, but we wanted to stay outside of town so we could have some room for the dogs to run. Settlers Crossing is in a gorgeous spot just a few miles west of Fredericksburg, past some vineyards on the road to Luckenbach. All the cottages are originally from the 18th and 19th century, original to or moved to the property, and furnished with antiques and textiles from the period. By strange coincidence, our house, the Indiana House, was furnished with antiques from Sweetbrush, a historic home in Austin that was owned by Nicholas' relatives (Zachary Scott & family) back in the day. Stranger still is the fact that I got to tour this house the previous weekend (now primarily furnished with the current owner's possessions). We always joke that we'd like to reclaim the house and live there - and I'm sure they'd let us for a few million dollars.

View from the bed (me = lazy) - that picture on the wall is actually all needlepoint! And who knows how old.

We had a little local wine under the arbor (yep, me too, just a little with doctor's OK - though I was so paranoid about it I couldn't even finish the glass) and watched the hummingbirds. As hummingbirds are part of my fabric designs for the nursery, we thought this was kind of serendipitous. Miller has been practicing with my camera lately so that I can be in a few pictures when the baby is born (auto mode is strictly forbidden around these parts), and he got some pretty decent shots of these notoriously hard to shoot little guys:

Me, at 33 weeks

There's more from the trip, but thought I'd throw this up there as I've had a few requests the past few days to see the bump. Apparently we need proof that I'm as enormous as I claim to be. Here we are before dinner Saturday night - 33 weeks almost on the nose:


Eek. I'm afraid the inevitable late pregnancy fat face is setting in. I'm ok with that - not much longer to go now - and I probably didn't do much to help matters this weekend with my calorie bender (no, seriously...cheeseburgers both days for lunch, delicious wiener schnitzel + mashed potatoes and sauerkraut, four layer carrot cake, artichoke stuffed shrimp, the most divine lamb chops I've ever tasted, oh and an enormous goblet of lavender ice cream. And I devoured every bite with gusto). I've been eating really healthily for the most part throughout this pregnancy, so when I decide to indulge, it's go big or go home.

We are 5 weeks from being to "term," and 7 weeks from our due date. Have I mentioned it's June 5th, my grandparents' 60th wedding anniversary? If not, well there you have it; I know it's a long shot, but I've loved having that date as our "D-Day." So, I'm hoping she's a punctual little thing like her dad; if she's like me, we might be having to serve her eviction papers.

Daddy Jack, this one's for you

Our next stop was to Clint Orms' shop in Ingram to pick out a fancy belt buckle for Nicholas.

Do you wonder why I call him Nicholas sometimes and Miller other times? Me too. It started in college. I called him Miller way before we were dating, and it's just something that stuck. He likes it, and as it turns out, my great-grandmother called her husband by their last name, Pickett, so I figure I'm just keeping up family tradition.

Anyway, Mr. Orms is an extremely talented silversmith whose engraved buckles are some of the very finest anywhere in the world. They are done in the traditional, historic Texas style. His work is so detailed and fine that you almost need a magnifying glass to see all the tiny etchings made into the metal - the work of a true master craftsman. Needless to say, this was a very nice gift from his father (an avid gun collector who appreciates this fine art of engraving) for passing the bar last summer, and Miller was very excited to make his selection:


There were literally hundreds of options to choose from, but he knew what he wanted when he saw it. He loves to bird hunt, so this suits him perfectly. Mr. Orms also offered to put some Longhorns on the underside of the tips, a subtle nod to the meaning behind the gift.


I should have had my much taller husband take this, but I was struggling with the lighting in manual mode as it was. I couldn't get the camera high enough over the tray of belts and couldn't lean in enough due to the large watermelon protrusion in between me and the counter. So, this didn't exactly showcase the engravings like I wanted them to. You win some, you lose some.


Despite this sign above the door, once we'd picked out the buckle, Mr. Orms asked if we wanted a little tour of his workshop.




Here's an early sketch of a custom buckle;


This is how they start the die molding process; eventually it would be shrunk down to the size of something that would fit on the buckle. I think it might be similar to the process for casting bronzes?


A few exotic animal dies - so neat.

I'm so nerdily into anything artistic like this, and I loved seeing his design process at work. It's clear Mr. Orms has such a passion for what he does. This stop was a treat for us both, and Nicholas came away with a mighty nice souvenir to show for it.

My happy place

Our hill country trip was born out of an errand we needed to run in Ingram. Miller's parents had given him a hand-engraved belt buckle from a master silversmith as a gift for passing the bar last year, and we were to go to his shop in Ingram to choose one.

Well, it just so happens that Ingram is about 10 minutes away from Camp Mystic, where I spent 13 summers of my life. It's idyllically situated among cypress trees in a valley on the Guadalupe River, minutes outside of Hunt in (what I think is) the very prettiest part of the Hill Country. It's a special place in that intangible way, something that I can't really pinpoint except to say that I always left camp renewed, and in a much better place than when I arrived in July. There were years that I really, really needed camp, even in my early 20s - maybe moreso in my early 20s. I also know that I bawled all the way home each August, devastated to leave my friends. Those same friends who, years later, were at (and in) my wedding, my baby shower - they are the lifelong kind you treasure. It remains such a big part of me, and I am so happy that I will be able to share that with my daughter.


Coming back to Mystic always feels like visiting an old friend - it's so familiar and unchanging. It's my happy place.


Of course, my summers at Mystic have long been over, but they always welcome you with open arms any time you'd like to stop by for a visit.


These little ladies seemed to get it. They bounded all over the grounds and are ready to be signed up for next summer.


We were patting ourselves on the back, watching them here. Yes siree, we thought we had some pre-tty well-trained little dogs, who gingerly sidled up to the river for a drink without jumping in. We told them not to and they listened! Well done, us! What obedient, well-behaved children we will have! We are on the road to successful parenthood!


Ah. How foolish we are. They were just looking for that extra special part of the river that no one swims in because it's 100% murky, gooshy Guad Grunge. Perfect if you're just about to get back in the car.


Maybe it's just our imaginations, or wishful thinking, but something between these two changed this weekend; they seemed to morph from merely tolerating one another's existence to becoming more of a little team. We aren't sure what happened, but we hope they keep it up and use their combined powers for good and not evil.