New year's eve morning

I wanted photos of my son. I get so few good ones because he turns away from my camera. "Be in the moment," he tells me. "Don't separate yourself by looking through a piece of glass." But this is who I am. Apparently this is who I have always been, ever since my Uncle Ken gave me my first camera, a second-hand Nikkormat FTN built like a truck (I still have it) when I was 10. My friends from high school all tell stories of the camera constantly being at my eye. And though I also love to write, this blog is as much a photo album of my life as it is a narrative of what happens. So yes, I wanted photos of my son on the last morning of the year, and even though I didn't get the ones I wanted (that would have required his cooperation) I still got some in which he wasn't actually grimacing at my attempts to capture his beloved shaved head in pixels. Here he is making breakfast, and then getting himself off to work, a change of clothes in tow as he plans to attend a black tie event and stay over with friends this evening. He kissed my forehead as he left, calling over his shoulder, "See you all next year!" Meanwhile on the living room couch, my daughter slept through the action in her Survivor buff. She likes to fall asleep in the glow of Christmas tree lights. The second to last photo is from last evening, a couple of footloose kids sprung from final exams, heading out on the town. The last photo is one my niece posted of the New Year's eve morning they are having in Jamaica. Talk about a parallel universe.