Irene wanted me to write a blog, but I thought I'd try this for a year instead.
Years later, in 2011, I realize that the above no longer makes sense, since I have stopped photographing breakfast and instead occasionally put down random thoughts. These days I photograph our granddaughter's lovely face, paint for fun, knit and teach knitting at an after-school program for girls, and read. Life is good, if a bit slow, but then, so am I.
A sun lighted breakfast, those must be the best. Dappled sunlight on your eggs and juice and you can pretend you're in an English cottage with an equal garden. A Miss Marple sort of morning.
The sun is moving north, and it's past the hedge to the east, so we get some strong sunlight for a bit, and then it's behind Terry's house and we have indirect light again.
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A sun lighted breakfast, those must be the best. Dappled sunlight on your eggs and juice and you can pretend you're in an English cottage with an equal garden. A Miss Marple sort of morning.
The sun is moving north, and it's past the hedge to the east, so we get some strong sunlight for a bit, and then it's behind Terry's house and we have indirect light again.
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