Eggs

My photography assignment this week was to take a photo of an egg. The instructor said we should use this as an opportunity to study light. So being the compulsive person I am - I took about 100 pictures of an egg. And the pictures were mostly taken on my desk with the light coming through as stripes on the desk and egg. The one here was a single shot I took of Craig holding the egg. I thought it was interesting although is not the one I plan to turn into my instructor because it turned out too dark.


Being focused on an interest is something I've done since I was a child. I remember we had an old typewriter that was in the garage - I was about 7 or so - and I typed and typed and typed until my Mom literally yanked me out of the garage and made me stop. She must have been pretty angry, because I don't remember ever trying to type on the typewriter again.

But that did not stop me from getting other interests that I zealously pursued. Ever since I could hold a pencil - I loved to draw - and I had to draw everyday. Mostly I drew horses and fashions. I even made my own paper doll - carefully drawing the doll and designing clothes for her.

Now that I am an adult I shift through different interests - primarily art or craft focused: bead making, origami, water color, paper making, computer art, photography, furniture art and so on. The only interest that has continued more or less regularly over the years has been cooking.

Probably my earliest memory of finding a recipe and making it was when I was about 9 or 10. My sister and I were reading the Little House on the Prairie books by Laura Ingalls http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laura_Ingalls_Wilder . In one of the books - I have not figured out which one - there is a recipe for hickory nut cake. It called for mace - a spice we had never heard of - we asked our parents to get it for us so we could make the cake and they did. http://www.theepicentre.com/Spices/mace.html We had hickory nut trees on the farm in Ohio, so we had that ingredient covered. Hickory nuts are incredibly hard - trying to crack them requires a hammer, strong hands and patience. Dad offered to do it because he loved hickory nuts and wanted to see what the cake would be like. After several hours and much swearing - we had enough nuts for the recipe. It was a delightful cake smelling of hickory and mace. My Mom probably still has the recipe somewhere. The reason I cherish this memory is because my sister and I discovered the recipe together - I used to read to her - and we made it together. It helped cement our relationship as 2 sisters tightly linked in love and spirit forever.