Laura likes graphs. She’s 4.
My mom came to visit us in Boston last week. We had a great time!
We walked through the MIT and Harvard campuses, explored the Back Bay and shops on Newbury Street, and toured the MFA and MIT museum.
There were a lot of first-time experiences for my mom: Flying solo! Taking the subway! Eating a seaweed salad!
Here are some photos from our adventures:
Harvard Yard. Mom loved the chairs!
MIT – Stata Center.
Seaweed salad and sushi at Thelonious Monkfish!
On July 4th, Dominick and I were hiking up Mt. Cardigan to our AMC high hut base-camp. Even though the scenery was absolutely breathtaking, he was preoccupied. He was worried that his editors would be unhappy with the quality of his work.
Earlier that day, he made some photos of Hillary Clinton at a small town parade. This was no easy task. He was dragged along in a rope lasso with all the other press professionals. Though cumbersome, this method was preferable to the campaign’s original plan: to put all the press in two barricaded pens on the parade route, allowing access at only those two points. A former White House photographer was pushed around by some junior campaign staffer. Another photographer shot parts on his iPhone, because he had better access that way.
Dominick described the assignment as “a matter of millimeters and moments.” That is, if you’re off by a millimeter, in time or distance, you’re not making the right photo.
Despite the difficulty of the assignment, Dominick made some wonderful images. One of them was selected for the front page of the New York Times Sunday paper.
This is an awesome achievement, and I’m so proud of my husband!
As always, you can see more of his work at: reuterphoto.com
Dominick and I had a wonderful time exploring the Shenandoah National Park, celebrating our first wedding anniversary. We also enjoyed the Look3 photography festival in Charlottesville, and both came home inspired and ready to take on new work. Here are some photos from our adventure:
It’s not Thursday, but I stumbled across this throw-back gem…
Last week we visited Dominick’s grandparents, Emory and Esther, in Georgia. They recently learned that Emory has cancer. They were meeting with their doctor to get the scan results (to see how far it had spread), and to discuss treatment options (if any were viable).
Emory is a man of few words. He likes life’s simple things, and most of his conversations are about just that. He told us a wonderful story about seeing their neighbors’ horses in the night:
“I went out over there where the ground dips and I didn’t make a noise. Then I heard clop-clop, clop-clop, clop-clop.” (He gestured a slow, gentle rhythm for the horses’ hooves.) “And I looked and looked and finally I could see just the bare outline of two heads looking right at me. So they ran over the whole field in the pitch dark to come see me, because they knew I usually gave them carrots.”
Esther is much more talkative. She’s a classic southern lady. I use that word, ‘lady,’ very deliberately. Not everyone has the right manners to merit the word. She praises God at every opportunity. This is what complete thankfulness looks like:
“When we married, I asked God to give us just 10 years, and now He’s given us nearly 15 wonderful years together. Isn’t that amazing?”
Yes, it sure is.
Well, they found Emory has stage 2 cancer, and he started chemotherapy that same day. Emory sat in a big recliner, and his only complaint was boredom. Afterwards, he said he wanted lunch at the Golden Corral. (This is a buffet restaurant with an abundance of fried food – the Ponderosa of the South. We’d successfully dodged eating there before, but this time we heartily agreed. We’d go wherever Emory wanted to go.)
During lunch, Dominick told Emory his new favorite joke: