Gotta love a camera with macro capabilities.This is a close up of an orange that was on the counter. The lens was closest to the side of the orange; but in the dim light of the morning kitchen, the camera insisted on flash, which illuminated the topside.
Still, it was a groovy picture, inspite of the strange streak of dust which contaminated the lens for many subsequent shots. I have no idea where the streak of dust came from, as I am obsessive about keeping the lens cap on the inactive camera.
Nor does the streak appear on the portrait of my first freesias in the planter in the back yard.
Who could figure? It's Spring, and cold weather is pretty much gone until next November. I'm a wuss; I won't miss it.
Seder was last night. It wasn't a bad Seder, as Seders go, but the foodstuffs were kind of lackluster. Mostly overcooked casseroles. A competitive Filthy Piker chef who also attends our Seder said that my legs of lamb had outdone him and other Seder chefs. That was kudos enough to last me until next year.
The singing was great, though the attendance was about half of what we planned for. Well, duh. That's what happens when you don't tell anyone that Seder is on -- three days hence.
Still, the light turnout was yet another moment of grace. I'm so emotionally fragile yet that preparing even for a small crowd gave me the shakes and mental gray-out. Alex was kind enough to sit at my left hand and lead the singing, and offer me support.
I think that Seder showed me not only that there is a grace in relying on others, but also how shattered I am. I literally could not pull together in my mind what needed to be done. By the time the next Seder rolls around, I hope to be in ... firmer control.
That's what the Control Freak part of me says.
The More Rational part says, "Time to start training someone to handle overseeing parish Seders in the future."
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