Pictures: A Moment of Truth

Well . . . we have our pictures back from the photographer. Strange how these photos are not capturing the "real me"--the person I am in my mind--but some middle-aged gal that I'm not sure how I have become!  HA!

A friend wanted to see some of the photos and so "by popular demand" (she's a popular person with me!) here are a few. It is taking fortitude for me to post  them here for my handful of dear readers . . . and the rest of the known world.  I am the problem in all the photos--there is heavy cropping but no photo shopping.  This is no reflection on a great photographer.

On the other hand, the photos of the kidlets turned out just great, of course, and I am posting this representative sample, below. There are some other photos from this photo shoot on my Christmas picture postcards (and I do not want to ruin the surprise for you).

Overall, I think the photographer did a great job and I would use her again.  However, and as one would say: "the moral to this story is," if you want a better picture, bring a better image/face/visage.  I'll try that next year!

My mother always used to say:  "The only difference between a good picture and a bad picture is ten years."

I know that when my husband and I went on our honeymoon, we posed for a picture and I thought I looked just awful. We had planned to use them as postcards but I refused to send them out. While I still do not think I look good in that photo (the humidity did in my hair and there is a look of "Lurch" about me), when I look at it now I see our newly married trim and young selves looking back at me and it makes me smile. I post it here with only the mildest cringe.

Then, on the occasion of my mother's 80th birthday party, we had a family picture taken and I hated it--a lot--and I refused to buy more than the proofs.  Ten years later, I cannot see now what the problem was then.  I am dazzled instead by our youth (B's and mine), the young children clustered around us (who are now all taller than I am), and all of our delightfully happy smiles.

Yes, next year I hope to bring a better "me" to the photo shoot, but I also know for a fact that the only difference between a good picture and a bad picture is ten years . . . .