South London Photographer: Family albums and Son No 1 being mean…or just being a normal child… or something

Son No 1 left the house this morning telling me I was a disgusting mother who didn’t love him and only cared about myself. This as I was trying desperately to get him and Son No 2 out the house on time so they were not late for school, despite their best efforts to sabotage me, because I think it’s really important to be on time and want them to grow up knowing that. And all because I said for the about the 10 0000th time (and I’m sure I’m not exaggerating!) “Put your shoes on now and brush your teeth” – I mean come on; It’s not like I was asking them to amputate their left arms, or worse, do my domestic chores, or even go to work down a mine or up a chimney. Apparently, however, I’m being a truly unreasonable harridan from hell, because I beg each morning and then when I sense I’m not being heard at all resort to yelling abrasively and far too loudly (ask Ms. B about my loudness…), “make sure you’re ready before you go on the computer in the morning as per the well established house rule which you insist on ignoring”. More fool me, of course, for allowing the same argument to happen each and every day and for being such a bloody ineffectual mother who apparently has a real problem keeping firm boundaries in place.

So, not sure this Monday morning was the best start to a week.  It would have been quite tempting to make myself a cup of tea and crawl back under the duvet, put Son No 3 in front of his favourite film and pretend I didn’t have, as usual, an incredibly long list of things to be getting on with, not to mention putting our home back together post weekend chaos.

One of those things is finishing off the last of my assignments for the course I’ve been doing which in retrospect has been an incredibly useful and important journey all about exploring how I might use photography. I’m always surprised when people question my motivation for doing the course in the first place. I think some of it is because people don’t quite understand the course is not about learning how to use a camera; I did such a course a while ago and very useful it was too. The point of this course for me has been about broadening my expectations and certainly by the end of it I can look back and see that the projects I did would never have entered my mind had I not had the support of structured, organised learning.

For the final project we had to create a series of photographs that together form a clear narrative. I thought this was a great opportunity to connect some of the commercial and artistic ideas I’ve been having. So, this week I am posting some of the photographs I will be using in the final project, which record my own family on holiday in Italy. I am putting together an album and when it’s ready I will be posting that here too. These images here are a little ‘trailer’.   And in time I will offer something similar to clients. In the meantime I am looking for two families who would be interested in having me tag along with them for a weekend or two and recording day to day life, maybe including an event or trip out as well as just existing at home. I’m happy to negotiate the charge for these first two experimental projects so if this is something that interests you please get in touch, and we’ll take it from there.

Perhaps your children will scream and shout like mine did this morning, and perhaps you will too, just like I did this morning. I’d like to record these moments as well as the less stressful, happier moments we traditionally like to photograph. I’d like to record your family as it is. When I look at the photos I took of my own family I can imagine how grateful I will be to have them later when we’ve changed and grown and life has taken us on journeys that will have transformed us all one way or another.

A photographer I follow on Twitter recently said one the most profound things you can do is pass your photos on to your family for future generations and I think there is something very important there.  Photography is an amazing language and one which we all speak nowadays; it’s capacity for storytelling is immense so creating an album that captures your family as it is now might be a wonderful way to give your children and future generations something truly precious and important.

I end this week thinking about my delightful son telling me I was so awful as he left the house this morning. Regular readers will know Son No 1 can also be clever, mature, understanding and incredibly wonderful too. For me the biggest conundrum and challenge of being a mum is accepting our children as real human beings and ourselves too; all the good stuff but also all the less than good stuff that we humans all have.  I’d like to develop a photography package that aims to capture all of those aspects of ourselves in images and then put them together in an album really worth keeping.

There…Monday morning is already better because I’ve achieved the first few things on my list including writing this blog, and I’m sure Son No 1 will be in better mood too when he gets home later. Either way, I’ll love him and accept him because he’s my little boy and that’s what it’s all about.  Although I will of course have strong words that are indicative of clearly defined boundaries as I do my best to do an impression of an effective and in control mother who knows exactly what she’s doing.  Have a great week!

If you are interested in having a photography album made of your family please get in touch with me at or call me on 07581694934

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South London Photographer: Childcare advice, lies and Piglets

Lordy, bringing up children is fraught with responsibility.   Constant worrying, questioning and self-doubt could be crippling if one allowed it to be. There is so much advice out there. Some of it horribly conflicting.

One of my favourite books is called What are children for? by Laurie Taylor and Matthew Taylor, a father and son pair who explore why people are choosing not to have children in our society, and what people who do often expect from ‘family’. I read it when Son No 1 was still just a baby, perhaps hoping it might tell me what I was meant to be doing with my small person in a simple and easy to understand way.

In fact What are children for? questions the value of child-care advice. They point out that the ubiquitous pontificating we parents are faced with is often not worth listening to. “Much of this output takes the form of experts advising parents on what they should or should not do to bring up their children safely, responsibly, and successfully. A large proportion of these pronouncements is pious in tone and based on dubious scientific findings, but nothing, it seems, can stem the tide.”

I’m not entirely sure how saying, “That’s it! I’m going castrate you all!” would go down with the experts but Son No 1 said, “I don’t think you’re meant to use that as threat, Mum, you know for the sake of our future well-being…”

Actually last night I tried hard to be a very stern and strict parent who demanded a kind of dictatorial sense of order. Well, they looked at me with utter shock for about 30 seconds before all four of us burst out laughing, a little hysterically it must be said, and then carried on as usual.

Whatever the truth about parenting, I think my over-riding ambition is to instill a sense of honesty in them. I hate lies. I can’t bear the stupidity of lying. My dream partner would be someone who understood just how utterly ridiculous lies can be, which of course may just be a fantastical dream but one lives in hope…(It has to be said, if someone asks you “Do I look fat in this?” there is a certain amount of diplomacy required.)  Blatant, stupid, nonsensical lies really get my goat.

They know how I feel about lying, and although like all children they continue to tell utterly pathetic lies from time to time, they always do it half-heartedly now and then retract it pretty soon afterwards.   If I instill nothing else other than an abhorrence of lying, then I’d feel like I’d have done one small thing for the good of society.

Maybe that’s a failing in me. My dearest oldest friend tells me I have some sort of honesty Tourette’s and perhaps she’s right. I tend to disagree though as I have prevented myself from being honest in the past for fear of looking stupid. And have always regretted it. In any case looking stupid is not so bad. You pick yourself up and move on, don’t you?   Better to stick to your guns and be honest, I’ve come to realise and hope the kids will realise that too.

So, as far as parenting advice goes, I think I’ll end this week’s post with a quote from Frank Ferudi’s Paranoid Parenting, which I found thoroughly sensible, intelligent, the opposite of pious and extremely well researched:

“Parenting is not a complex science. It is not even a science at all. It is actually just a natural undertaking.   Sometimes ordinary, sometimes boring and even banal, bringing up children is always demanding. Parents can afford to make mistakes, although they would do well to learn from them… Be prepared to call the expert’s bluff.”

I think that means… Chill!

Here are some photos of some kiddies from a recent session of Mini-Shoots I did at Piglets Play Centre in Hersham, Surrey. I’ll do another at some point soon so if you’re after some professional portraits and a day out watch this space!

Paranoid Parenting by Frank Ferudi published by Continuum 2008

What Are Children For? by Laurie Taylor and Matthew Taylor Short Books 2003

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South London Photographer: Ageing and growing-up or not as the case might be…

First of all I must apologise to the all the people who are over 44 years old – I am about to have one almighty moan about having turned 44 yesterday. I’m not sure why I should have found this particular birthday so upsetting as I’ve never worried about getting older before. In fact, I have always quite welcomed it as I have, foolishly it turns out, always suspected that with every year that passes another tiny modicum of maturity must surely emerge.

Earlier Son No 3 asked me, “Are you growed-up now, Mum?”

“So they tell me, I answered.”

Maybe that was not the correct response. Maybe my baby son needs to know that the person in charge of him knows exactly what she’s doing and is absolutely as growed-up as it is possible to be at the grand old age of 44.

The thing is despite no longer being in my early 40s but now very much in my mid 40s I do without any doubt feel ‘not-even-remotely-grown-up’ and have no idea when one begins to feel such a thing, because sometimes you meet people and you think, goodness, they’re very sorted and grown-up and then you get to know them and it turns out, either because they are grown-up enough to admit it or because they aren’t but their behaviour kinda gives them away – that they seem just as perplexed and un-grown-up as you do! So now I am fairly certain that the notion of ‘grown-up’ is rather like Father Christmas – something that, as time goes on, you might begin to suspect is a little fantastical perhaps.

But while the mind might not grow up in quite the way my 2, 7 and 10 year children probably imagine it does, the body on the other hand certainly does with or without the person inside onboard. As was so clearly and kindly pointed out by a young and oh, so trendy hairdresser I went to see a while ago, but not since he said the following,

“Well, I don’t think I can let you leave the salon without doing something about these greys…”

I said, “No thank you!”

Because I am actually quite interested in my hair going grey and I want to see it happen, not cover it all up. Admittedly, I am fortunate as the greys are appearing quite slowly and they look OK. I’m quite vain though so if that weren’t the case I might have said, “Yes, please!” (And I’m certainly thinking about a jar of Jolen because no one wants a ‘tash?  Well, no one like me that is.)

As it was I ended up agreeing to have some entirely colourless thing which cost just as much as the colour thing plastered all over my hair and nearly doubling the bill because I’m a twit and not grown-up enough to say,

“Do stop trying to sell me stuff and just cut my hair, please!”

Thank goodness a friend now just sends me a text to tell me her home-visiting hairdresser is due to come along and would I like to pop along too? It’s all much easier; no-one tries to dye my hair or points out the greys, or sells me the most expensive conditioner in the world and I don’t even have to come up with the idea of actually getting my hair cut in the first place – just answer yes, or no. Much like someone who isn’t very grown-up at all. Phew!!

Turns out I haven’t moaned about being 44 in the least. Just about not being very grown-up but undeniably ageing nevertheless. Maybe that is what’s depressing me in the end. The fact that I still feel about 17 years old, make the same bloody mistakes as I did then and always have done, still can’t find a way to deal with said mistakes as I’d like to, but am anyhow getting creakier, (would love to say leakier because it rhymes but it’s not actually an image I want to promote) greyer and a little bit more decrepit by the day.  Aaaaaaaah!  44!

Image (c)Sarah-Jane Field 2014

Such a pretty baby and one I loved photographing.  She doesn’t have to worry about being 44 just yet.

South London Photographer: Ambition and simple goals

Son No 1 has decided he’s going to MIT – Yup, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I’m not one to thwart or discourage his ambition so I said, “Ok, Lovely, that sounds nice.”

Son No 2 told me he’s going to be a YouTuber. “Really, darling?” I said, “That will be fun!”

“I’m going to throw this sweet at you!!!” said Son No 3. A slightly less ambitious aim in life but at least a highly realistic one – however, I did manage to persuade him to aim for something less aggressive that time but I’m sure he’ll return to the candy violence at some point.

I’d just like to remember to take the washing out of the machine before feeling I should probably put it through another cycle because it’s been sitting in there for several hours. I don’t think it’s very ecological or economic to keep washing everything twice (sometimes three times – oops!) My solution this week seemed to be to forget to switch it on at all – I had a mini-internal celebration every time I went into the kitchen saw the washing in the drum, thought, ‘bugger I’ve forgotten to take it out again’, and then realised it hadn’t been washed in the first place! Oh, the joy at not having to drag it out and hang it up straight away.

I imagine the mummy in this week’s photographs needs to be a bit more organised than me. Her baby is only 10 weeks old and lives on a Barge with his very lovely parents, which made the work really good fun to do. It was a very relaxed shoot – and I loved meeting this little boy and his family.

I’m sure Sons No 1,2 & 3 and I have too much stuff to live on a Barge – but we’d certainly have to get rid of all the toys in order to fit in and that is nearly a good enough reason to go for it!

All images (c)Sarah-Jane Field  2015

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South London Photographer: My son has been learning that I’m an actual human being

I think Son No. 1 has realised, as every child eventually must, that his mother is sometimes not the all-knowing godlike creature he once imagined. To be honest, I think it’s been dawning on him slowly over the last 12 months or so but this week as we drove somewhere together he looked at me aghast.

My fingers sometimes, although really only occasionally, when I’m a bit tired or distracted, do this funny little dance on the steering wheel as the Satnav tells me to turn left or right. Up goes the right hand, and if you were quick enough you might notice it miming as if it were holding a pen, confirming in my mind that the Satnav means I need to turn in that direction, and most definitely not the other way because that would be quite wrong and I could end up adding another ten minutes or so to the journey – I imagine.  And then my left hand, if you looked fast enough, does another little movement forming the shape of an ‘L’ – imperceptibly because I don’t really need to do it because I know the difference between my left and my right because I’m middle aged, of course!

“You don’t know the difference between your left and your right!” he said.

“I do,” I said incredulously.

“I can’t believe I’m trapped in a car with someone who doesn’t know the difference between their left and their right!” he said.

Perhaps I should have taken that opportunity to tell him, actually we’re all flawed, a little or a lot crazy and that’s just how the world is, so get used to it! And, I could have added, no one knows as much as they pretend to know and mostly everybody is making it up one way or another as they go along, although to be fair most adults do know the difference between left and right and in fact my two year old, Son No. 3 already knows but you get my point. But why make it easy for him?

It’s taken me my whole life to realise that some people are just better at making it up than others; and anyway perhaps it’s best to discover all of that yourself, slowly over time otherwise the shock might be too much. He probably wouldn’t believe me anyway – a form of protective denial. Surely, he would think, someone in charge must know what he or she is doing. All those grown-up people doing important grown-up things like running the country and starting wars and making me go to school every single week day! (And he’d be so wrong on that count because there are some very long holidays.)

On the same journey he also gave me a good talking to about mates rates.

“You charge them WHAT?”

I’ve got to make him my manager; he’s far shrewder than I will ever be.

And he described how to envisage distances as I drove past another turning I was apparently meant to go down. I must say though, I’m sure that when the Satnav politely says, “turn left in 30 yards” it actually means “TURN LEFT NOW, NOW, NOW!!!” I mean if it weren’t so very ambiguous all the time then it wouldn’t need to keep saying “recalculating route” so regularly, would it now?

I remember becoming aware my own parents were actually human beings, although I didn’t realize just quite how human they were at the time – wow, that would have been a shocker at ten. It was an important moment. It was about the same time I kept thinking why don’t they put any clothes on? No! They weren’t nudists or anything. It was just at that time when you begin to comprehend that you have bits and they have bits and being fully clothed at all times is really best all round for everyone. Oh, my goodness, I’ve just realised, he’s been like that for ages. Has he known I wasn’t a godlike creature for ages too?

Whatever the truth, it’s good for these kiddies to get to grips with such things. With luck he will learn to accept the fact that his mother is flawed (quite considerably in fact), and then that other people are flawed and then when he finally understands just how flawed he is it should certainly make it easier for him to forgive himself for not being the genius, hilarious godlike male creature he currently pictures!


Here are some photographs of two adorable children who still have some way to go before the truths described above begin to become apparent.

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All images ©Sarah-Jane Field

South London Photographer: What’s so great about photographing babies?


I love, love, LOVE taking photographs of newborns. It’s such a precious and fleeting time. When I am around tiny people who are only a few days old I am reminded in quite a visceral way of my own babies’ early moments.

Don’t tell the new mums but you know, they don’t stay tiny newborns for long and the wonder of being vomited, defecated and urinated on regularly does begin to wear thin. It isn’t long before they develop language and learn to tell you that they hate you – it’s devastating when it first happens but by the third child you will have developed a thicker skin, and if you were in a particularly childish mood you might even stick your tongue out and say back to them a little sarcastically  – “I don’t care!!”  They also hold their hands over their ears when you sing and then they scream, “No! Don’t make that noise” (and even start crying – geez, it’s not that bad!); they drop entire boxes of cereal on carpets that were just cleaned by a very lovely, helpful man called Stuart* who had only just finished the job of removing all the grime twenty minutes earlier, and which they were responsible for in the first place; they lose their homework and then blame you – actually, they blame you for every little thing that goes wrong in their lives; they climb on your head when you’re sleeping and demand that you get up at 5.30 in the morning – “but it’s da cwack ‘a dawn!!!” – which is precisely why, you tell them, they should still be sleeping. They scream and cry and bawl for literally no reason at all sometimes.

But they’re sweet occasionally too. Son No. 1 has taken to telling me I’m the best mummy in his whole wide world. Son No. 2 thinks I’m the softest mummy ever – damn, he’s right, no wonder they’re so feral. And this morning son No. 1 decided he would make me a cup of tea and some toast in bed. Aaaah – so sweet. It was all his idea, although it has to be said I was being charged for this treat – £2, and I think he felt a little exploited by that. Unfortunately for me he actually dropped and broke the cup on the kitchen floor, along with half a sliced loaf and a collection of plastic cutlery. Happily, there was no tea in the cup at the time, nor could there ever have been since he didn’t put any water in the kettle prior to boiling it. He still wants paying though because apparently none of that calamity was his fault. I imagine it was mine, sitting in my bed upstairs with no tea but plenty of hope and expectation.

I managed to escape briefly on Friday evening when I went to the Swaffield PTA Quiz night. So much fun! I thought Michael, Quiz Master from our great local, The Old Sergeant, was terrific and he even asked some questions I knew the answers to. Woo hoo!  Thank you very much to the fantastic PTA for a brilliant evening.

The mummy in these pictures has all of this to look forward to. There is so much to learn. One thing I would say to new mums is, if you are reading any kind of parenting book that makes you think the methodology contained within it is the only way, chuck it out with the dirty nappies. In the meantime know that the hormonal storm that’s currently battering your entire being gives way to all sorts of weather; calm, breezy, temperate moments as well as wet, wild torrential periods too.  There are times when you want to literally throw them across the room but there is also joy, laughter and lots of fun. No wonder, I went “Oh! – so that’s what it’s all about…” after my first child was born.

Very cute baby alert so if you’re prone to broodiness you might want to look away now.

*Stuart the carpet cleaner can be reached on 07908 302437 if your carpet and upholstery are as grubby as mine were.  He’s ever so helpful!

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All images ©Sarah-Jane Field

Fun, thanks and spreading the word – South London Photographer

I’m not sure what happened this week, bad planning on my part perhaps, but I seem to have been out rather a lot more than usual.  One of the mums I spent time with looked at me like I was mad, “You’ve been out two night in a row!?!  Are you crazy??”  Oh, I do so love to live dangerously!  Anyway, it means I am way behind on my work and the list of tasks, work-wise and domestic, is horribly long.  And growing.

I should really say a very public and heartfelt thanks to my mother who makes it possible for me to go out at all.  I’m so lucky to have her nearby and also because she is extremely accommodating.  My life really is all the better for it. I’m not sure I’d have been able to develop as a photographer as I have done without her help, and certainly wouldn’t have been able to have such a good social life this week.  So, thank you!

Although I cannot lie and say the socialising was all work-related I was able to chat about the family shoots I’ve been doing to a whole bunch of women I don’t know that well, and spreading the word is always a good thing. I have some amazing friends who are also really good at promoting me – Ms. M who is in this week’s images was very kindly showing her photographs off to people we were with and singing my praises to the hilt – like having my own PR team with me while I’m out.

Another good friend said, “I read your blog… it’s really good!  I couldn’t stop reading it!”  That was a nice ego boost, thank-you, Ms. B.  Although she did say later on in the evening, “You’re not like this in your blog!”  Well, I’m not sure vaguely caustic, a little subversive and ever so slightly inebriated (just slightly) would be quite the right tone here but maybe in time… you never know.

During another evening out, I was really good and did my best not to bore the sub editor of a magazine which uses portraits to illustrate their articles – thank you nevertheless to a different Ms. B for your encouragement and the invitation to keep pestering your picture editor. I’m sure she’ll be delighted!  We were at an amazing supper club run by chef, Briony Peters at Barmouth Kitchen, which is a the best local cafe you could ever hope to have on your doorstep.  The food was delicious; such a great menu devised by Briony at a truly reasonable price and some excellent wine too.  Franky and Jessie who run Barmouth Cafe, along with Briony couldn’t have served us any more perfectly, despite me getting the numbers wrong and ending up with one extra person – oops! Everyone had a great time and it’s well worth looking into if you’re based in this area.  It’s good job we had the place to ourselves as you tend to for supper clubs as the riotious cackling by the end of the evening might have been a bit much for other clients.

So, despite being behind on my work, having blown my monthly budget, feeling about 10 years older because I’m quite tired and definitely a bit porkier by the end of the week, I do feel that it was worth it  – I handed out lots of cards and received several queries from various people.  I’m not entirely sure how stumbling into a local pub with Ms. H and the newly married Ms. S-T quite close to midnight, playing darts and singing Island’s in the Stream – I say singing , I do probably mean shouting – helps with work and promoting myself but still, I’m sure there’s something valuable in that somewhere.

This week’s images are of my aforementioned personal PR guru, the very lovely Ms. M and her beautiful family.

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All images ©Sarah-Jane Field

Things I’ve been learning – South London Family Photographer

There is so much to learn about photography it can sometimes feel overwhelming. I don’t think life is any different to photography in that regard and I’m beginning to see that being human is about one long learning, relearning and learning it all over again exercise.

These last few weeks I have been looking at secondary schools with my oldest son as he’s currently in Yr 6 and so preparing for a new phase of childhood.  What I have learned about secondary schools is that it is so important not to listen to the gossip and crucial to visit each school and make up your own mind.  This morning we made our application and it was pretty nerve-wracking putting schools that many people dismiss at the top of our list having visited and discovered that the stigma attached to certain institutions is utterly outdated and misplaced.  Goodness, I hope we’re right – it feels such a responsibility.  My son is so pragmatic and is taking it all in his stride.

My youngest two are way off that just yet.  My middle son merely needs to learn that apple cores go in the bin and not under his bed, or behind the sofa or anywhere else where they can rot and becomes invitations to small rodents and fruit flies. Odd to think that that sort thing isn’t pre-programmed genetically in some way.  Nope – small people aren’t quite human, definitely need socialising and that’s something I keep having to relearn again and again and again.

The mummy in the following photographs has three sons like me of similar ages so was full of empathy about the chaos that ensues.  We understandably had quite a lot to chat about – I wonder if she can teach me to be more in control of my boys because that above all is what I need to learn, I’m certain!

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All photographs ©Sarah-Jane Field

A peaceful weekend

I can’t remember such a quiet weekend as the one that we’ve just had.  Various things got cancelled at the last minute and my oldest son was away with Cubs so we did very little indeed other than have way too much TV and screen time, me included.  It was bliss!

Of course, with my two younger boys it’s never really quiet but in relative terms…  The littlest did at one point get frantically cross with me when he insisted that the dishwasher tabs were called Tampax.  That was almost quite an argument although one I felt in the end I wouldn’t ever win so I gave up!

When my older son returned he greeted me with, “You forgot to give me £5!” as he stumbled in the door.  I knew I could win this one though so opened the top pocket of his coat where I was certain he’d put it two seconds after I gave it to him in order to keep it safe and retrieved the £5 I’d apparently forgotten.  I should really have pronounced in delight as he does so often, ‘Epic fail!’: one of his favourite sayings at the moment.  Which means the 2 year old comes out with it too occasionally – but it’s really very cute when he says it.

Here’s some photos of another little boy I recently photographed – what a sweetie.  Wonder if he’s going to yell, “It is Tampax!” to his mum one day…  Enjoy your week!

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All images ©Sarah-Jane Field



October begins

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A black kitten in time for Trick or Treating. Not mine but the lovely family who’s photos come at the end of this blog.

Halloween is my middle son’s favourite celebration although Christmas of course comes a very close – pretty much in tandem but not quite – second I think.  And the weather has finally turned a little chilly: sorry – I know there will be those of you that disagree, but I am pretty pleased about that.  Autumn, with or without Halloween is probably my favourite season of the year.  Lots of beautiful colours, which is always nice for photographs, of course.  Plus the sun sets much earlier so the light is lovely to work with before children become intolerable a little challenging.  Apart from all that though, it’s just lovely to start wearing woolly jumpers and boots.  I love it!

Talking of my middle son, yesterday we went to Ed’s American diner in honour of a project he is doing on America for school.  While we were there my oldest boy asked me about slow shutter speeds, a subject very close to my heart (I know I’m sad!)  I was thrilled to explain it all to him and he showed lots of interest saying, “Ah, so you’d need a fast shutter speed for sport in that case, wouldn’t you?”  I was so pleased I thought I’d tell him about aperture and ISO too.  “No, mum.  Now you’re just being boring.”

“Oh,” I said with a little disappointment that I was almost very good about hiding.

“Go on then.”

I then launched with enthusiasm into what I thought would be a marvelously, interesting chat, or perhaps monologue would be a better word, but I didn’t get very far.

“Oh, Mum!  Your face was so happy when you thought you could carry on taking about camera stuff.” At which point he changed the subject and slurped his milkshake.  I think it’s to do with being male.  Reminds me of a 10 year old Justin Post (yes, you Justin!)  saying to the 10 year old me, “I’ve heard you want to go out with me.”  “N,N,No,” I stammered trying not to crawl into the ground because I had a terrible crush on him and was SO embarrassed.  “That’s a shame,” he said, “I was going to ask you out.”  Then he and his horrible laughing mates walked off leaving me feeling mortified and crushed.  Thanks, Justin!

So, apart from all of that I have been taking photographs here and there and I thought I’d pop just a handful of portraits from earlier up here.  Was very relaxed taking photos of this family and I do love it when it goes that way.  Enjoy the start to Autumn – if indeed it has arrived.


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