High School Senior Photo Time

School and 2020.  Uncharted waters for sure.

Documenting a child's high school senior year milestone with senior photos is not uncharted waters.

Please honor your child's milestone and capture this very special time of their life, with me or with the photographer of your choice...but please capture it!!

I did a little bit of research in my own photography files and wanted to share and spotlight some of the families that I have had the pleasure of photographing the high school senior portrait milestone for every kid in the family.

Every kid in the family!  This tickles me to the core and is the ultimate compliment of my work!

It's so fun to see the resemblances and to look back on the past decade and feel the love!

Please know that a word of mouth referral is the very best kind of complement a photographer can receive!   

I value EVERY SINGLE referral I receive.

I value EVERY SINGLE opportunity I am given to capture an important milestone.

...and when that one referral becomes a family...well that's just plain love!  :)

...and my very own 💜

If you are interested in learning more about my Senior Portrait offerings please reach out to me at 

Minor Moments Photography

Holding On and Letting Go, Not as Deep as it Sounds :)

My Mom was an incredible seamstress.

Really I need not say more, but I will say just a little more.

...and she didn't throw anything of value away.  You define value...

For someone of her age, she was born in 1933, I have found it to be fairly normal that this generation certainly didn't live a "disposable" life...as it sometimes appears today.

My Mom died in October of 2018, coming up on two years.

I was so fortunate to have helped her downsize to a condo just one year prior to her death, and in doing so we accomplished emptying the house she had lived in for 62 years.  I have plenty enough stories here for many more blog posts of the future, but today I am sharing just ONE story of one item.

After Mom died I spent about 3 months trying to "give away" her crafting surplus, but it was her fabric supply that I struggled with the most.  She had everything, and several of each.  She had fabric in several cedar chests that again exceeded my age.  She had wool for suits, she had camel for coats, she had gabardine for trousers...you get it right? Although Mom taught me how to sew it was not (and is not nor will it ever be) my favorite thing to do...so there was absolutely no need for me to keep 99% of what she had.

One of the last remaining items for me to donate was her ironing board.  I have an ironing board, but mine is SO LOUD to open.  It makes this gut piercing squeal when you slide it open...yes...hubby of all trades could probably WD40 it and all would be right with it...after all I only use it on rare occasions...but for some reason I decided to donate mine and keep Moms...hers was heavy...I'm assuming older than I again...but oh so quiet...so that is what I did.

When Covid hit, and the whole mask making crusade...I thought Mom would have definitely jumped on that bandwagon and what better way for me to keep her close in this time but to use her sewing machine and her ironing board and jump on the crusade myself...which I did.

After a month of using the ironing board I noticed my finger nails catching on the fabric on the top cover of the board.  My Mom made the ironing board cover, yes she made everything...did I forget to mention that?  Probably another reason I decided to keep it over mine...it was a bit of her in every project...but as the weeks went by my fingers catching on the fabric grew more and more annoying, the fabric was disintegrating each time the hot iron passed over it and last week I decided to order a new cover for Mom's ironing board.

And when the cover came in and it was time for me to strip the board of Mom's personal handy work, I just knew I needed to take a few photos and share them with you all...cause I'm guessing I'm not the only one with a Mom who didn't throw anything of "value" away.

In summary, there were EIGHT layers on Mom's ironing board.

The top two were covers she had made herself...from there they just get older.

It looks bad...but it's damage from the heat of the iron...there was no mold or odor...just many years of "frugalness" and an answer to why the board was so damned heavy!

:)  Mom keeps making me smile.

The last photo is of my new cover.

And yes all the old went into the trash for I truly believe there was no value left...please rejoice with me!!

I still have quite a bit of sorting through Mom's stuff to do, but have decided to just work on a bit at a time...and I'm hoping these experiences will help me part with some of my own "stuff" that has accumulated over the years.  No need to give me advice...I know what I have to do...if you do however ever want to come hang out with me as I sort, that would be a wonderful show of support.

Maine Blueberry Picking this Maine Photographers Annual Summer Therapy

Summer of 2020.  Not like any other...and it appears the Maine wild blueberries...at least in my part of the state...are also not a fan of 2020.  Last year I had to recruit my husband to pick with me in my own yard because there were sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many I didn't want to lose them...and this year...although the flower buds seemed promising...I didn't even reap enough to enhance a bowl of breakfast cereal...so I had to find an alternative...at least for 2020.

Blueberry picking is a Joanne tradition.  I did it with my Mom growing up...we would ride our bikes up the dirt road adjacent to my house, then turn right and follow the railroad tracks a bit and visit the same spots year after year after year.  Our spot is no longer there...something like "they paved paradise and put up a parking lot"...only it's a hospital and a parking lot.

I'm pretty sure I skipped a decade or two of picking...my 20's and 30's there were many other agenda's on my calendar and summer therapy wasn't really missed...

But somewhere along the lines my husband pointed me to a spot along his daily commute where he had seen cars pulled to the side and assumed there was some good picking going on...and there was!  And that's when I resumed my summer blueberry picking therapy sessions.  It's not something I ever do alone, I'm a little too chicken shit...or cautious...call it what you wish...to trespass into the woods early in the am before the sun gets hot...or later into the evening by myself...but I've always been able to recruit a like minded friend to accompany me for a few hours at a time and spend some quiet time...each to ourselves...but within yelling distance if one needed too...picking and reflecting...or thinking...or working through something...which is why I call it therapy.

But this year that isn't the case.  Knowing that our yard hadn't produced I asked my husband to accompany me to "my spot" so I could see if it was worth planning a therapy session the next morning or not...he did...and I discovered just as I feared...very few pickings...in a location I normally spend hours in...

So yes, it's my therapy, but my husband definitely reaps some rewards from it...Sunday night blueberry pancakes throughout the long winter nights.  It's tradition!  I pick until I can pick no more...then spend a few days cleaning and freezing and bagging...

So God bless his heart...the thought of a cold winter's Sunday night with the wood stove going and possibly some chocolate chip pancakes...what???!!

One of his co-workers...currently Zoom co-workers...told him about her trip out to Joan and Brad's for blueberry picking.  Pay to pick is not really my idea of a therapy session, but we had the time...and desperate times...well you know...

It was a wonderful experience.  Big place but not overly commercialized, so Covid social distancing was a piece of cake.  We went early on Saturday morning and although we could hear some other folks, we never saw anyone else until it was time to leave.  We brought home 15 cups in under two hours and under $20.  Mission accomplished...there will be blueberry pancakes at the Minor house come that first cold Sunday evening of winter.  

 

There are all sort's of variety to choose from and many many big ones too...ALL very sweet!!...but hubby like's the little ones for pancakes...and I have to agree with him!  They provided us with a bucket you could hang around your neck and a gallon sized zip lock baggie inside (same as other u-pick places with Covid measures) and you know when it's time to quit...cause your bucket is heavy!! :) )

If you freeze them on a cookie sheet before you bag them...they stay prettier!  (not sure who taught me that...but it wasn't Mom...we never had enough to freeze...and she never made blueberry pancakes...guess that is...once again...my own tradition.

Let me know what you do with your blueberries!  I also make up a 4 cup baggie for my annual Thanksgiving blueberry pie too!! And...that colander with the big ones...that's for my morning Frosted Mini Wheat cereal!  Tradition?  You bet!!

(all photos taken with my Google Pixel 3A XL)  Focus was on my hubby and the bucket around his neck...not the blueberry in his hand...