If you would like to set up a photography session, or have any questions, contact me via email: betsy@betsyjophotography.com. Thank you!

Thursday, March 18, 2010

WE'RE MOVING!

It's been a lot of work, but I'm happy to announce that the Betsy Jo Photography blog has a new home! Completely redesigned-- sporting a custom url & a custom slideshow header-- the new blog is easier to navigate, easier to comment on, and just plain prettier to look at! I've enjoyed working on it (for the most part) and, look forward to hearing your feedback. Leave a comment on the new blog if you like it, and feel free to leave your ideas and suggestions, too!

www.betsyjoblog.com

This will be the last post on this blog, so be sure to update your RSS feeds or Google Reader.

And one last word from the author: Goodbye, Blogger. Though I won't miss you, I will admit that you've been good to me.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Lovely

RANDOM THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY:


Sure, and 'tis a grand day to be alive in Connecticut. It's like spring outside and in:











This makes me happy:

Stay tuned for an announcement -- and an explanation as to why this blog has been a little silent of late. I assure you there's a valid and happy reason... (And it's not because I'm running out last-minute to go buy corned beef and cabbage.)

This makes me happy:

Did you know that March 17th is considered the first day of spring for gardeners? That means it's officially safe to start pruning my roses. I can't wait. I think that's the real reason I like St. Patrick's Day. (Shhh... don't tell my lovely Irish grandmother, Margaret Mary McBrierty Ryan.) [Sorry, had to stick that in there. I love saying her name.]

This makes me happy:

Did anyone see Google's illustration today? 'Made me smile.




Happy St. Patty's day, dear readers.


Thursday, March 11, 2010

Savor: (v) to give oneself to the enjoyment of.

So, in the sneak peek for this shoot I mentioned that the dog wasn't mine, nor was the boy. But when I began to go over all the photos from this post, I realized I was a little wrong on that account. Because there's a certain feeling I get when I go through photos of my children. It's a an overwhelming sense of love, mixed with a tinge of nostalgia and sentiment. Sometimes the feeling can create a little lump of love in my throat. So when I went through these photos, and began feeling those same emotions, I realized I was wrong. These may be my sister's sons, but this I know for sure: they are my boys.

Wade Christian, Landon Joseph, and Anderson Kenneth, you make me smile. You were such good little stinkers during this shoot, and I love ya' to bits.

This little puppy's name is Annie. And she is quite taken by her little owners. They are participating in the Fidelco fostering program, training Annie to be a guide dog. And giving her some love in the process.






I know where the term "puppy dog eyes" comes from... Who can resist?








These next 3 make me laugh:












Colleen wanted to take some photos for their family to remember the time they had with Annie. I'm so glad the boys will be able to look back on their little pup someday and smile.


Just one more, because I love Landon's expression in this shot:




For more information, visit: http://www.fidelco.org/index.html


And I couldn't agree more with this quote:


'Taking pictures is savoring life intensely, every hundredth of a second.'


-Marc Riboud, famous French photographer

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Sneak Peek.

~

A boy and his dog.




(Oh, and in case you, dear reader, are wondering-- that is not our boy. And that is not our dog. But both are terribly cute.)


"Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot about puppies."

-Gene Hill

Monday, March 8, 2010

Day 292.

'Love watching this boy draw.


Serious business.



Now let's hope this coming week is as bright and shiny as those new pencils. Because I've kinda' had it with the amount of sickness this household has seen over the last number of weeks. I'm not a fan of spending Sunday at the doctor and the pharmacy. Neither is my little Nora. We're both kinda' ready for health to arrive with this beautiful spring sunshine.

Have a lovely day, all!


"Gentle Spring!--in sunshine clad, Well dost thou thy power display! For Winter maketh the light heart said, And thou,--makest the sad heart gay."

-Charles d'Orleans

Friday, March 5, 2010

Anticipation & Realization.

Two consecutive frames, 1/3rd of a second apart.



We had just arrived to the Cape and finished setting up our campsite. It was cloudy, humid, and a little cool, but the kids begged to head to the beach before bedtime. So we did. When we got there, they were so excited, running right into the waves, clothes and all.

It was a wet, sandy walk back to the campground.



"Happiness seems made to be shared."

-Pierre Corneille

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

They.

~

Connor was so sick yesterday and part of today. He just quietly lay in the recliner looking nauseous and miserable, not one of his shy smiles showing up as he rested. I offered to read to him, or give him more ginger ale, or draw pictures with him. Still not even the tiniest of smiles. Later on, I was sorting through photo files from last summer, and happened upon these pictures of Connor trying to pick Nora up and swing her around at the beach. I brought the laptop over to Connor and showed him.

He smiled.

And so did I.




You see, I knew when we were expecting twins that it would be busy. I knew it would require loss of sleep and lots of long days. I knew that it would change us. People told us to get ready, that we had no idea what we were facing. People would kindly chuckle and pity us, or cringe with a little smile of sympathy. They would tell us our lives would never be the same, that our hands would be full. And we knew they were right, that our hands would be full. But what we didn't know was how intensely full our hearts would be. We didn't know of the friendship that would be borne between these two. Nora and Connor are so different from each other, but share a bond that we can't really grasp. We didn't realize how much we would laugh, and how we would thoroughly enjoy watching their antics of companionship. We didn't know what it would really be like, how cherished these twins would become. Those people who warned us that our lives would never be the same? They were right. And every day, I am so thankful for that.



"There are two things in life for which we are never truly prepared: twins. "

-Josh Billings

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Day 98.

~

Head of the Meadow Beach.

North Truro, Cape Cod.

2009.





I have hope for so many more days like Day 98.



"The sea! the sea! the open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions round; It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies; Or like a cradled creature lies. "

-Barry Cornwall, English poet (1787 -1874)

Monday, March 1, 2010

Hasten : (v.) to move or act with haste; proceed, hurry. To urge on.

It's a study in contrasts-- the yearning for the days to pass swiftly, for spring to arrive-- and yet aching for time to slow down, for our children to stay young and innocent, to let the days soak in thoroughly. Instead the moments seem to swirl and fade in a blur of happy color.

I want the days to go by more quickly, for the snow to melt away-- so the plants will poke their head from the ground and remind me that hope springs forth. I wait for the early harvest of the asparagus that we all planted together last year, remembering how we dug in the heat of the sun, watching as we watered the roots, creating small little liquid beads reflecting the yellow light. I can't wait to call to the kids as they bound off the bus on some warm sunny spring afternoon, to show them the little early tips leaping out from the brown crust. I yearn for the rhubarb leaves to unfurl and show off their strong red stalks, reaching for the sun. I can't wait, but still I want time to slow down so we remember, to let it all seep into our minds, to hold it in our hearts. I want my little ones to stay little. Already I feel like it's silly of me to call them my little ones. Because they aren't little, really. They are growing too quickly, too soon. I want them to stay young, to always think that it's fun to work out in the garden with their mother, to be excited as we search out little sprigs of happiness each spring. I want to see the light in their eyes as we laugh, planting onions and peppers, while searching for a spot to put in dahlia tubers and zinnia seeds. I want to hear their childlike laughter for so many more years, to hear them call out to each other while they play on the swing set, voices ringing high above the neighborhood as they reach the apex of their flight. I want to see little hands full of dirt, and flip-flops strewn across the backyard. I yearn to hear Connor turning on the hose to get a drink of water, then filling up buckets to 'help' water the plants. I wait to see the freckles reappear, to watch the hair at their temples turn sun-kissed white. I want to feel the soft spray as Nora splashes in the little plastic pool, and hear the slap of wet bare feet smacking against the brick floor in the sun room. I wait to see Joel stretched out on a towel on the driveway, reading a book while the sun warms his back. I long to hear again the sound of sidewalk chalk being scraped across asphalt, the whir of bikes pedaling, the sound of sprinklers pulsing. I yearn to hear and see, smell and taste the wonderful pieces of spring and summer as they envelop our home.

I want spring to arrive, to hasten its course. But, oh, how I ache for time to slow down.
















So for now, while I wait, this small pot of spring blossoms will have to do. And it does help. A little.



"I come, I come! ye have called me long, I come o'er the mountain with light and song: Ye may trace my step o'er the wakening earth, By the winds which tell of the violet's birth, By the primrose-stars in the shadowy grass, By the green leaves, opening as I pass. "

-from Voice of Spring, by Felicia D. Hemans