I hope this brings a smile to those affected by this ‘Frankenstorm’. Living in south-central Pa, I am also in the thick of things and my thoughts and prayers are with you all…
This is a reblog from my other blog….
We’ve all heard the expression, ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’ and that expression couldn’t be more true with this picture.
Cute, right? Oh, how easily decieved you are….
This is probably my all-time favorite picture of my son, Giz – (Yes, he has a ‘real’ name, but coming from a family of nicknamers…)
He was 5 1/2 when this was taken. At first glance, the photo says: ‘Cute little boy, had fun fishing, proud of his catch’. And one would think the story ended there.
For those of you who don’t know him, Giz has 2 sisters, Punky & Bear (I would use their real names, but I’m not sure I remember them anymore!) Punky is 4 years older than Giz and always refused to be outdone by either of her siblings. Bear is 2 years younger and is naturally easy-going. When they were young, their father and I used to take them fishing quite often. We knew where the ‘hot spots’ were so that the kids could just drop their line in from the shore and the fish would all but jump on.
Giz enjoyed fishing the most, Bear had the most patience and Punky usually preferred tormenting her brother, sister and us until we finally couldn’t take any more and headed home.
On this particular day, we arrived at ‘the hole’ and Punky threw her line in before anyone else and immediately caught a fish. Having caught the first fish and easily at that, she had newfound excitement for the activity, and cast her line in again. Again, she quickly pulled out a fish. This sparked interest in my most competitive child and she fished her heart out that day. By the end of the day, she had caught a number of fish while the rest of us caught little more than happiness for her good day.
We left the hole, stopped by their favorite playground for the customary picnic and then headed home. When we got there, the kids jumped out of the truck and began gathering their belongings (lawn chairs, poles, blankets and such). Punky’s hands were full so Giz grabbed her string of fish and his pole. Shutter bug that I am, I took the picture above.
That’s when the sky darkened, the earth rumbled and all hell broke loose!
“Why did you take a picture of HIM holding MY fish? Now everyone is going to think HE caught them all. That isn’t fair, I caught them. They’re MINE!”
She threw her things on the ground in front of her and stormed off. Okay, she was upset, she spoke her mind, we thought it would end there.
For the rest of the day she mumbled underneath her breath, she gave him little shoves and pokes, she swore she’d never EVER go fishing again and refused to eat the catch of the day. Through tears, tantrums and threats, she was made to apologize to her brother (which went something like, hand on hip, nose in the air, sarcastic ‘sorry’) after which, she was sent to her room for the night – no TV. That was a big one with her.
Now, this story may have bored you a bit, but there is a lesson here.
I suppose that as a writer, I compute things a little differently than others might. For example, I love, love, LOVE old pictures. Even if I don’t know anyone in the photo, I will look at it for a while and by the time I’m done, I have envisioned who they are and why one person looked so sad while the others were smiling… and there must be a reason why no one is wearing a coat even though there was snow on the ground…
You get the point.
A picture is worth a thousand words, or in this case seven hundred and sixty-three. And I think that people who are ‘born to write’ have a built-in ability to embellish upon, colorize and manipulate the story behind the picture.
Learn to look past what you see. See the subliminal. Create extensions off the obvious. Paint the picture you want the world to see. Embellish, colorize and manipulate.
And now, for another round of apologies to my kids for airing their childhoods in public…
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