The last Sunday before I head back to school; the kids have one more week.
Thus ends summer 2019.
Final Sunday
general
Lake Jocassee 2019
Just a little over a year ago, we went camping for the first time at Lake Jocassee -- not our first visit, but our first time camping there -- and we knew that we would have to go back. Again. And again. This year, we returned, taking our same camp site -- our beloved Site 20 -- and going to the same places, doing the same things. With one difference: K, finishing up a course, stayed home.
"I can study better for the final without you all anyway," she rationalized, but of course we all wanted her to go with us as much as she wanted to be there.
Still, it created a new dynamic as I explored an adventure with the Boy and the Girl. There's a difference in fun in threes that makes us rely on each other a little more and realize -- for the millionth time -- just how much K brings to our family.
For one thing, we're much more relaxed about getting started in the morning. If it were not for K, I don't think we'd get half the things done we usually get done. K is the early riser in the family, and even when we're on vacation, she makes sure we're up and eating at a decent out, out for our first adventure, ready for our second well before lunch. Without her, we managed breakfast by 9:00, usually making it to the water an hour later as we went to get ice for the cooler, to drop off the trash, and to accomplish various meaningless tasks.
Part of that might have been the inability to split tasks due to having only one adult present, but honestly, we just got up a lot later than we would have earlier.
It's tempting to say that everything else was the same, but how could it be? Everyone's a year older, a year wiser. The Boy made a friend and spend a good bit of time on his own with his friend J, in sight but most decidedly independent. The Girl floated out to an isolated area and lived in her own world at times. The Dog wanted -- actually begged -- to get in the water.
The next day was more of the same, but with a major change: the rock we discovered last year that was simply a lovely spot to go and watch the sunrise and do some fishing, became a jumping platform. The Girl, seeing me and others do it, leapt into the water without much hesitation at all. The Boy? Well, J his new friend was there, jumping off with abandon. The Boy didn't wait: off he went after a quick check to make sure I was in the water to help him if needed.
Tackling the Leylands
L’s First Day at the Pool
L’s Return
E and I had a chat about L’s return. He was so very excited — and not even once in those conversations did he ever talk about what she was bringing him. “I hope we don’t start fussing again,” he said.
“Well, that really depends on you,” I explained.
When we got home, the Girl went pretty much straight to bed. Played with Clover, played with Elsa, then went to bed.
Diving
Friday with the Boys Again
Climbing
Growing up, I did a lot of bike riding. It was very safe in our neighborhood, for there was only one way in and out -- no thru-traffic. There were a couple of hills in our neighborhood that were awfully fun to ride down but not terribly fun to ride up.
Of these two, Lynnwood Drive was the most easily conquered. There was nothing too terribly steep, and with some patience and determination, I could make it up the street.
Going one way. Going the other was more challenging. The hill was shorter but steeper. Having a single-gear bike, I found my legs burning and barely moving by the time I made it to the top.
But Norwood -- Norwood was unthinkable. It was unimaginable to ride up Norwood; one had to stop push. To a kid of seven or eight with a single-speed bike, it looked like the Alpe d'Huez without the switch-backs: just one, steep climb that felt like at least a 37% slope.
Our own street, Lamont, was the easiest of the three -- just a stead, upward grind
I imagine this is much the same way E views some of the short climbs in our neighborhood. After all, all the above thoughts were based on my perception as a kid of about E's age.
E could take all these hills without a problem. So far this summer, he's ridden 180 miles with me...
Interruption
One of the things I miss about living in Boston is walking down a street or emerging from a subway car to hear someone busking. Granted, there were enough buskers with little enough talent to make them a nuisance more than anything else, but every now and then, someone would make me stop, take a little time out of my day, and immerse myself in their world.
These guys, who sadly play in NYC and never ventured into Boston’s subway system (and probably didn’t even exist when I lived there — the sax player would probably have been a toddler then), have perfected busking: ten-minute sets filled with energy, dynamism, and a touch of humor.
It makes me wish that our family lived in a place with more of this type of thing going on.
Back into the Photos
I've been spending a little time in the evening delving back into the photos I've scanned. It's frustrating: I have small images, and they don't create a lot of data for Lightroom to manipulate. Still, I've got a workflow for them now, and I'm more and more pleased with the results.
Some fixes are easy; some are tedious.
Uncle Dinky (never once did I call him by anything other than the nickname he'd had for most of his life) looks a lot better with a little work. Had to correct some colors a bit, but not much. I focused on getting his face bright and clear.
I'm most pleased with the tricks I've learned for the old red photographs that are so ubiquitous.
Look at that tone curve for reds: everything is in the mid-ranges. No red in the shadows; no red in the highlights. The same is always true for blue and green. I'm not sure how that all combines to give a red tint to everything, but I've found a solution: recalibrate the tone curve for each color and voila! It's a semi-decent picture. Unfortunately, though, each picture's tone curve skew is different, so creating a preset to do the work with the click of a button isn't an option. I have to correct each color of each photograph manually.