No longer 64, and pushing 70, Paul McCartney can still put on a show.   

Now, I know a true Beatles’ traditionalist (like my brother, who believes George Harrison wrote the best Beatles songs, and that the Beatles died with him) could care less about Paul McCartney singing Sgt. Pepper with a back-up band, but you know what – it’s the closest I’m going to get, and the back-up band was darn good, so I enjoyed the mix of Beatles, Wings and Fireman material, and the 65 year old guy next to me – oh my gosh did he have a good time -I thought he was going to cry – he may have been crying, when Sir Paul came on the stage following a sentimental Photobooth style montage.

And of course, while we waited for the show to start, what else is there to do but play with the iphone, and my new apps, Plastic Bullet and Lo-Mob:

Sunday’s show at the Wachovia was the 45th anniversary to the day of the Beatles’ Shea Statidum concert, and in attendance was the man who brought the Beatles to our shores, Sid Bernstein.  To say the show ran long on schmaltz was an understatement.  And, I was shocked to discover when I read the review of Saturday’s show today how tricked I was – I really thought the sentiment was genuine, and spontaneous (well, not the George Harrison tribute, but the stories he told, the expressions on his face) – and la, he told exactly the same stories the night before.  This show is slick, crafted, and designed like a manipulative Hallmark card.

But, after I got over being scammed, I was ok with it.  Really, how many times can you sing Let it Be before it becomes an act?  And, even if it was rehearsed, and canned, it was still true.  He played for three solid hours, warbled his aging lungs out, and even put on a pyrotecknic show to Live and Let Die.  You really can’t ask for anything more.

But there was more – Polaroids!  A whole montage of them – loved it! 

This summer I’ve been really focused on one thing – photography.  And, when I split the photography stuff away from this blog, it never occurred to me that I would, in effect, be gutting this space.  I’ve never been all that interested in photography before, I never kept this blog going droning on and on about photography, I’ve always managed to find something to write about.

But, what I guess I was writing about was my obsessions. 

And, I was obsessed with knitting.

Now, I’m not.

There are still many things I love to write about – books, movies, knitting, this and that, silly things, but the bottom line is, my current obsession is photography – and it’s really an obsession.  And the personal side of my life, at the moment, is being expressed through my photos.  So, I find myself thinking – does this photo go on this blog, or the other blog?  Can I post it on both blogs?

Anyway, I’m still working it all out.  I’ll figure it out.  I still believe having the second blog was the right thing – I think I just have to get a grip on my obsession, and perhaps become a more wellrounded blogger.

In any event, a few mini – reviews – because none of these topics deserve a full review, well, accept the book.  But, if I gave the book a full review, I’d spoil it.  So it’s not that the book isn’t deserving – it’s that you deserve to read it without my ruining it for you.

First, Beer -

Bad beer.

Really bad beer.

Miller lite to be exact.

I met Joe on Friday for a quick coffee during his big fifteen minute break.  Earlier in the evening, he had cited some kid for underage drinking on the platform.  The kid hadn’t even tried to hide it in those telltale red party cups, like his friends.  He just stood on the platform, Miller Lite can in hand.  And then he was surprised he got a ticket.  Shocker.  Anyway, I was joking around - I was heading to the bottle store to get a six pack, maybe we should get Miller lite.  Great idea! says husband.

Now, we’re not highbrow people when it comes to beer.  Our refridgerator  isn’t stocked with Chimays, or Hoegartten, or anything beer snobby.  Usually, it’s Corona lite with fresh lime.  Nothing fancy, but light and refreshing.

Miller’s new marketing ploy is this crazy bottle neck – I’m not sure what it’s supposed to do – but it can’t be doing much.  Blech.  Really, that’s all I have to say about it – but it’s been on my mind all weekend, because that’s all we had in the house.  Only one bottle left – and back to the Corona.

Next up, of course, a Movie -

Salt – We saw Salt on Sunday.  Eh.  I’m so tired of these shoot em up movies.  Really, it looks like her karate chops she be accompanied by big POWs! THWACK!  And, I’ve spent a lot of time in my Comic book round up of movies this summer harping away about how these movies need a compelling villian.  The Russians are not compelling villains anymore.  The North Koreans – now those are villains I would be scared of – but it would be really a leap to come up with a way that Angelina Jolie would really be a sleeper spy for the North Koreans. 

My husband is so sitting through Eat Pray Love in August, there’s no question about it.  During the school year, Joey is with us every weekend, but he only sleeps over every other weekend, which gives us two weekends a month that we could see nonkid appropriate movies.  No such time in the summer.  So I’m really regretting that The Kids Are Alright and  Tilda Swinton’s I Am Love are passing us by . . .

For Salt. Sigh.   And next, I can hardly type it . . . Dinner for Schmucks.  At least I’m promised a crap dinner at Chickie & Pete’s with accompanying crab fries in exchange for this assuredly mind numbing gem. 

And my last little mini review – a book. 

 I’ve actually managed to finish a few books this summer, but this is the first I want to push – One Day by David Nicholls.  This book, a kind of cheeky take on when Harry Met Sally, chronicles the relationship between will they be or won’t they be lovers Dexter and Emma, by checking in with them each July 15 for two decades.  It’s light, but moving, and I really liked hanging out with them.  I was a little worried – each chapter takes place on One Day – a bit contrived.  But One Day isn’t  just about July 15 – it’s more about hopes, dreams  - someday is one day, and then it’s more about memories, and what One Day can mean in the context of your life.  And, the writing is tricky – to provide a years worth of backstory on one given day – Nichols plays with voice, and some of it is a bit of writing acrobatics, but it worked for me.  Really worked.  I loved this book, and couldn’t believe it when it was over.  So, enough – or I’ll spoil it.  Read it.

So, what was in my mail when I got home?

The Paul McCartney Tickets that seem to be lost in the mail?

My latest addition of Entertainment Weekly?

No, this –

An AARP membership welcome package.

Unbelievable.

A few months ago, my credit card information was pilfered.  It was an old card, still using my maiden name.  The bank still isn’t sure how the card was accessed, since it had allegedly been cancelled when I ordered my new card, with my married name.

Anyway, these brilliant thieves went to a convenience store in Georgia, and rang up $87.00 worth of twinkies.  Then, they ordered an AARP membership, and a subscription to Gevalia coffee. 

But, great mastermind criminals that they are, they ordered both subscriptions in my name.

So, now I’m an AARP member.

When I was 19, and home on winterbreak from college, my 17 year old brother and I went to the movies.  It was cold, the wind was gusting, and it was threatening snow.  So I wrapped my scarf around my head, only my eyes peering out, all bubuska’d up.  My brother , the comedian, jokingly asked the cashier for two tickets,senior citizen discounts please.  She titled her head, and then rang up the discounts.  It became a long time joke in our family.

Now that I’m 41, it’s not so funny. 

Well, it is.

And, then it isn’t.

That’s my life these days.  I’m not struggling with age, exactly.  I think 40 was easy for me because pretty early on in my 30’s I had accepted the fact that I truly didn’t want to have children.  Taking that ticking clock out of my system made my body’s aging much more peaceful, something I wasn’t fighting.  So, it’s not aging that’s necessarily on my mind; it’s entering the second half of my life with renewal.  Maybe that’s a silly way to measure time – the second act of my life – when really, there have been dozens upon dozens of acts in my 41 years.  But, getting married really seemed to start a new chapter, a new book even.  At 41, I’m a new wife, and a new stepmother, and not a very good stepmother at that.  And, after the second half, that’s it – I’d better make it count now.  Retirement, and a real AARP membership is still many many years away (ah, the cruel joke of getting that package in the mail . . . there’s still the lottery), but what if it goes as quickly as my first 20 years of careerlife?  Life seems so much more immediate – its really here, every day.

And maybe that’s why I’m photographing it every day, maybe it’s why I like to color everything vintage –  slow everything down.  If you capture it, it stops, even just for an instant.

So what to do with the package?  I’m not opening it – and I’m not saving it.  But, I guess I’m now on their mailing list, sigh.  Once a month, I’ll be reminded that I’m not yet 65, and I guess that’s a good thing.

And when I’m 65, I hear there are fabulous discounts.

But, I won’t be looking for any reminders in the mail tomorrow.

I’ll be looking for my Paul McCartney tickets.

I bet you didn’t know that every good beach trip starts at the Gamestop -

Caught, redhanded – their secret is revealed!

Videogames in hand, it was time to cross the bridge into Joisey -

 Buh bye Philly!

The first night, Joe grilled – doesn’t he look so happy to be up close and person with the hot grill on the ninety degree day?

The corn was delish!

After dinner, we want walking on the beach. I had my camera, Joe had the camcorder. 

I took some of the pictures you saw below, and over on Lemontines 365.  Of course, what’s a Friday photo story without a fence – oy, another fence, my mom would say!

 And just to be thorough, the view the other way -

 The next day, after baking on the beach, we went to the Cape May Zoo.  Lions and Tigers and Bears in Cape May, oh my!  The main attraction was the new born baby snow leopards.

Here’s momma -

And here are the babies -

And what’s a zoo without a few flamingos? Another morning, we went to the Cape May Craft Fair -

There’s a happy guy, going to a craft fair!

I was happy – I had birthday money, and I bought a hat!

And that night, we had our date night, and Joe took me to the Deauville Inn for my birthday dinner. You can see those pictures here.

And, after dinner, we frolicked on the beach -

And a fine vacation was had by all!

Have a great weekend everyone! 

Hosted by Cecily and Serious Krystyn

This week’s assignment is all about emotion -what emotion is rocking my world right now, at this moment, and photograph it.

And right now, I am wired.

Just returned from vacation, I am rejuvenated, but I’m also feeling a little anxious. While I am well-rested, and that slow, tred-footed feeling that I had before I left is gone, I’m also a little apprehensive about the two trials I have coming up in August, and I’m antsy about the refinancing we’re doing on our house.

At times, especially at night, I almost feel like I have restless leg syndrome – like I want to jump out of my skin – I’ve stored up so much energy from vacation. Vacation was all about getting up early, going to the beach, soaking up the sun, eating and drinking too much, and going to bed fairly early to do it all over again the next day. Now, my sleep schedule is out of whack, and I’m trying to readjust to the early mornings and late nights, and the work in between.

Hopefully, balance will return soon!

Almost every year of his life, my stepson has spent a week at the beach with his grandparents.

But for him, a traditional vacation has now become a ritual bore.

There’s no X-box.

There’s no privacy.

Hopefully, one day, when he has the freedom to choose his own vacations, and his own traditions, he’ll understand.

My husband is awesome!

Not only did he take me to the beach -

He’s handsome -

And strong!

And! He gave me this lovely necklace for my birthday!

Hmmm, 41 year old toes?  I don’t think so . . .

I can’t be 41, I’m in a sand dune!

It’s just Bastlille Day, not my birthday . . .

I’m too goofy to be 41 . . .

But I am!

Happy Friday!

On Tuesday, when it was 90 degrees, and only getting hotter . . . and hotter, I trekked out to the suburbs to spend the day with my mom.

We went to Peddler’s Village in Lahaska, and if I could find a fence like this every Friday, I would definitely become a member of the Fence Friday gang on Flickr, but alas, there are no picket fences in urban Philly – only wrought iron gates and barbed wire.  Sigh.

After mom patiently waited while I photographed a fence (a fence? what’s so special about a fence?), we went to lunch, and sat outside.  Of course, we needed cocktails!!!

Does my face look a bit strained? That’s what happens when I hand the camera over to my mom – push the button down. No, not that button, the other button. No, the button in front. Push it half way down. Nothing’s happening. Push it half way, then all the way, its on auto. Nothing’s happening. Did you turn it on . . . Sigh.

And after she’s had a cocktail no less . . . sheesh.

Does that look good, yum!!!

After lunch, we walked around Peddler’s. I found — well, I didn’t really find it – it was right in the middle of the grounds – this windmill -

Here is before I hit it with some textures:

And here it is after:

Art perhaps??

Then, I “found” this waterwheel -

And a few textures later -

In the end, a lovely day was had all around!

Enjoy the holiday weekend!!!

And there you have it, my Friday photo story!

Hosted by Cecily

Lemontines 365 is live!

A day, a photo, everyday – for a year.

It will be quite a journey, my friends. 

Hopefully, it won’t be the road to nowhere, but you never know.

I think embarking on this project was the next logical step.  I’m riding high on Creativity Boot Camp momentum.  I’ve been taking Photoshop classes, and a photography class, and really, the only thing left to do is practice.  And that’s what Lemontines 365 is really, a visual workbook.  And a commitment to learn – not only how to use my camera, but how to find the photo – to recognize a shot, and take it. 

Like this one at the diner this morning -

And in Rittenhouse Square, in the evening, where every Saturday night they have informal dance lessons -

I thought about waiting until my birthday to start the project.  Most people, although not all, start a 365 project on January 1, so I thought my birthday would be a logical year starting point for me.  But, I was talking it over with a friend, and she was like, “that’s not logic, that’s procrastination.”  And, she was right.  No more hesitation, it’s on!

So, I created a new blog, to keep the project separate, so that it has continuity, and hopefully, as the days go by, I’ll be able to see growth – in my abilities, in my sensibilities, and in hopefully, possibilities.

And, at the end of the 365 days, I still might not be an artist, but maybe I’ll be a photographer.