Photo Backlog

Am up in the air, with wifi that feels SO novel, and the tiny OCD part of me that usually knits in the air is taking advantage of the time and technology to locate a whole whack of the really mundane photos I’ve taken as part of my photo project but never posted. Mostly because, well, boring.

Mid-July, between my time in England (when Finch had his eye surgery) and when we went to Brazil (7.20, #202, note the magnificent upgrade that afforded me so much sleep)

(7.20 #202)

it was all work work pack deal with super-annoying technology troubles, like having to replace my iphone I lost in England, and then having to replace my computer when the display went all kerflooey, and dealing with the super-annoying brazilian consulate.

I played with the new macro lens on my iphone to try to get a really close shot of a lemon one evening when I met J for an early dinner, but it didn’t turn out so well.

(7.12 #194).

I do like how rifling through these totally mundane images does bring moments back, like a really glorious run along the lake, where I stopped for a few moments to watch these little girls playing in the edge of the water.

(7.14 #196)

Or another run, the next morning,

(7.15 #197)

near the Humber Bridge, with Blair.

Mostly, though, it was work, at my kitchen counter (with my then spanking new Air), finishing that damned lit review

(#199 7.17)

or still work, though much more cheerfully, taking a couple of clients out to lunch. We RARELY do that, so it’s worth documenting.

(7.18 #200).

Some days, I am befuddled by what I can turn up. I know I took this picture of fudgeeo cookies in the fancy loblaws because I was reminded of my friend Adrienne, who lived in England for two decades and I know was nostalgic for these.

(7.13 #195)

But really, there was nothing else to capture on that day?

It was a crammed little period of time, just workaday flurry to get to this:

(7.19 #201)

The irony was I don’t think I had a single glass of wine the whole time we were in Brazil. Cairpirhinas, yes, and a beer now and a again, but the phrase book was actually about Portugal, and we were in the wilderness.

The little tour through my photos does make me wonder: where the heck are the shots from about July 5 – 10, because they seem to have been lost somewhere in the melee of busted technology; and what on earth would I do on uninspired days if I couldn’t take photos of food?

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