More Adventures in Studio Photography

A co-worker persuaded me to come shoot pictures of a giant list of people from her congregation--two families signed up every five minutes from 6:00-8:00. It wasn't booked solid, but we were plenty busy.

I am moderately pleased with the results, but still don't like the idea of "portraiture" in this sense. People have certain expectations of a "sitting"--moms were giving directions ("put your hand on his shoulder--yes, like that") and lo and behold, I turned into Olan Mills. There must be a better way to do this. I need to work more with studio lights.

Archibald, Archibald, and Archibald.

I'm thinking of starting my own law firm. I think these pictures pretty much prove I'm ready. I may have to rename this the "Archiblog Law blog".





"Injured in a car accident? You know who to call."



After seeing these, you know you'd hire me.

Most important ingredient.

"HIGH FRUIT!" the girl shouted from atop the toilet.
"HIGH FRUIT!"
"HIGH FRUIT!"

"WHAT?!?" shouted the boy from the other bathroom.

"I SHOUT 'HIGH FRUIT' AND YOU SHOUT 'TOAST CORN SYRUP!'" she responded.

I wonder if we've been talking about it too much....or if this could be a Family Circus cartoon. Oh boy.

Silver Beaver Award

I awarded Isaac Wesley Ayre with Scouting's most-interesting-sounding honor, The Silver Beaver Award, in a private ceremony in our home sometime this past summer for his "impact on the lives of youth through service given to the council." According to a random internet source, "The Silver Beaver is an award given to those who implement the Scouting program and perform community service through hard work, self sacrifice, dedication, and many years of service. It is given to those who do not actively seek it." He was so excited.





Any resemblance in this post to persons living, dead, or otherwise is completely coincidental. And, for the record, this blog, its author, and most of the blog's contents are almost entirely unconnected with the Boy Scouts of America, however intentionally or unintentionally.

Scout Hike to Mummy's Toe

This past month, we went on a backpacking overnighter up in the mountains outside Vegas, to Mummy Mountain. Here are some pictures.







iPod twins--the only way to hike. I'm sure it was a nature sounds album.




The view before we got to the switchbacks.



The old bristlecone pines were gnarled and reddish in color. Don't know if this does them justice.






Mummy's Toe, where we were headed the next day.



More gnarly pines.



The Raintree, the 3,000 year old bristlecone pine we camped under for the night.



The view of Mummy's Toe in the morning.



Me, halfway into a "thumb's up"--proof that I made it to the top. For the record, I am in horrible shape. And Scout pants.



Jeff, our fearless guide; his daughter, Emily; and Kurt--the guy who stayed in the back with me.



Scout.



Happy Scout.



Another Scout.

The hike was three miles with loaded packs to the Raintree, then we slept overnight. The next morning, we went without packs the two miles to the top, two miles back to our packs, and then three miles back to our cars with packs. I was exhausted--the downhill was far worse than the uphill, and my thighs, knees, and toes were extremely tired from the repeated pounding and trying to stop my weight on the downhill climb. I bought some old ski poles at a thrift store for hiking poles, and they were great to have along for support and to keep me from stumbling. And, by the time I got to the car, I determined that if I would have had to go another half mile, it might have been the end of me.

Maybe that's overly dramatic. But I was beat.

Craft

This summer at the Archiblog reunion, we made plates. This is an Archiblog family tradition, dating back to when I was a wee one (okay, not so wee--maybe 12-ish, so we're talking 1985 here), and one that has come back occasionally (a reunion in 1990, I think) and rather routinely to the point where my wife is getting tired of all the plates. But I think they're awesome, so I keep making them and making them. These are a few from our latest batch, which were delivered by my mom when she came to town with dad for a convention.

The first was made by the girl:



I am looking handsome. The bubbles on my body are clothes, not muscles (she has clarified this), and she added her own name to the plate (covered by the card), so she could, like she said tonight, "use it when I want to, because it has my name on it, too."



This one was also made by the girl. Can you guess what her favorite color is? What her favorite animal is?



I don't know where my children got the creepy cat fetish, but this one was made by the boy. Creepy. Did I mention that?



This was mine, partly inspired by Flight of the Conchords.



And, since I was on a roll, I thought I'd reference Spinal Tap, too.



This one's an oldie, but a goodie--I made it a few years ago, but it's one of my favorites.

So, if you're on our list for Christmas presents this year, get in your requests early! And you may be the proud owner of new custom tableware.

Will it ever stop? Yo, I don't know. (Synchronized Sleeping, Part IV)

I am impressed by the coordination of the outfits: black t-shirts and cartoon undies. Nice touch. And, just to toss in a bit of variety, they're posing perpendicularly on the mattress, yet heading in different directions. Amazing.