In true Karen fashion, I’ve neglected to blog without much explanation. I could say I’ve been super busy, running to and fro, working nutty hours, forgoing sleep and rest. Oh wait, I used that excuse last time.
The only solace I can offer you, dear reader (note the lack of plural), is that when all else fails, I’m usually micro-blogging on Twitter. Need updates on my coffee habits? Read about the tragic loss of my Moleskine? Feel enraged over the unjust thievery of the Snuggie that was rightfully mine? All detailed in 140 characters on Twitter. Your excitement is palpable.
As to what I’ve been up to, well, let’s just say life. I’ve delved into a new project and have traveled here and there. Visitors are constantly coming and going. The free weekends I have I use to sleep or catch up with friends in the city (We really do have to – and I’m sorry for using this – pencil each other in). I was determined to update the blog over Thanksgiving break in Richmond (I had a week – a week!), but instead I caught up with friends and family. More Rock Band than actual writing was had, and I can’t say I regret it. To top it all off, I have to make time for visits by the hoodie-clad gentleman in this post.
Which brings me to now. Er, October. On a beautiful fall day, I took Lola and Phil to Central Park. Last fall I was a few weeks too late, and the trees were bare. This year, as soon as color returned to my neighborhood I grabbed my necessities – boy, dog, and camera – and headed out the door.
I’m notorious for my horrible sense of direction, and the only time it’s forgivable is when I’m in exploration mode. I pretend I mean to walk in circles, pass the same bush five times, and say, “Oh hey, that’s a neat bridge!” even after the fourth encounter.
Luckily, each Central Park visit is never like the last.
Though I love capturing passersby, Lola and Phil are my favorite photo subjects because they don’t mind when I trail them like a creeper. There’s also something about unapologetically invading someone’s space that’s so damn satisfying.
It’s so easy to lose all photo skills, at least in my case, after taking extended breaks. Some pictures were crooked or awkwardly cut off extremities, and I reluctantly banished them to the junk folder. This one survived, thanks to color.
To everyone else, Lola’s a hyper ball of fluff. When Phil’s around, she’s his shadow.
Setting up for her favorite pastime.
What’s that, girl? Timmy fell down the well?
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