shoes and socks, optional.

Happy New Year!  This year, let's all take a lesson from August and try to remember that sometimes you have to take action before you get both shoes on. Or socks, as the case may be.

3 reasons I love asparagus

1.  It seemed like every Christmas for my entire childhood, and beyond, my dad would give me a card that said  "happy hollandaise!"  He must have bought the lot of those cards and my brother and I came to expect, and even look forward to, them every year.  Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate an actual card for this post and I can't quite remember now if it was a photograph or an illustration but you can imagine...

2.  The whole way asparagus makes your pee smell is crazy.  Even if you eat the tiniest bit.

3.  And most importantly, asparagus announces spring and makes me think of my grandfather.  We moved to Beacon because we wanted to have chickens and a vegetable garden, though I had no real experience with either.  I would have never thought to plant asparagus because it seems so exotic but ,after we arrived here, my grandfather (who, as far as I knew, had never touched dirt) told me about his childhood in New Jersey, and how they had a patch of asparagus growing in their front yard that he would pick from, liberally, every spring.  Only a couple of years after we moved back east, my grandfather passed away and I, sort of unofficially,  named our garden after him.  Only a few people know it as the Clarence Arthur Heuer Memorial Garden but that's what it is to me and I cherish the opportunity each year to begin planting and using the time working the soil to think about my grandparents and conjure up their voices in my head.  Now that I have known the frustrating failures of gardening, I really appreciate anything perennial.  The asparagus comes up like magic every year, just before the weather seems friendly enough for anything to grow.  Delicious aliens arriving in our front yard.

dan mazzarini - kiplinger's magazine

Here's a couple of my favorite pics from a recent shoot with Dan Mazzarini and his parents for Kiplinger's Magazine.

what is wonder?

I am honored that Reader's Digest chose this photo of August to illustrate what wonder looks like.  Eight other photographers are featured as well, many of whom I have admired for years.

When one of the editors called me to ask me why this photo looked like wonder to me,   I stuttered out a few things and they made it make sense in print.  Looking at the photo again, I still don't think I can eloquently say why it says wonder to me.  It was just one of those hot summer days and the kids and I walked to the drugstore to kill some time.  August saw this totally crappy and mediocre bow and arrow set and begged and begged for  it.  I finally after he agreed to pay for half.  He skipped the entire way home and his unadulterated joy made me reach for the camera.  That he broke the thing after about 10 minutes did not lessen his enjoyment of it one bit.  I think I finally threw it out what was left of it this fall.

 I just looked up wonder and the definition is:  something strange and surprising.  If asked, that's not exactly what I would have said. To me, there is an element of delight in those odd and unexpected things.  I hope that's what is illustrated here.

hands

Putting together some work to submit to a show I realized, I've got a thing for hands.

eight

happy birthday to my sweet, sweet boy!

obercreek farm and herbs

Here are a few pics from a recent story I shot and wrote (such as it is) about my cousins' farm and their herb garden for Gardenista.

The town I live in (Beacon, NY) is full of families that have been here for generations where kids will grow up and live across the street from their parents (as is the case with my neighbors).  This is not a model that I saw much growing up in Detroit though it was reinforced on my dad's side with weekly Sunday dinners at my grandma's house.  On my mom's side I was raised with the idea that you grew up and then got out of that place for greener pastures but now I realize how much that had to do with growing up in a city that, while totally wonderful in so many ways, did not offer a ton of support or opportunity.  Little by little, my family has joined me here and as I raise my kids I feel happy to be in a place that they might like to stay in, or at least near, when they are older and to be continuing my grandmother's tradition of Sunday dinners. 

and beatrice

Here's the latest edition to an old and dear friend's family.

ten

He's ten now.

baja