Sigh.

Good-bye sweet summer and your long, lovely days.

I miss you already.

xo,

Patricia

Thoughts on Phonetography

Hello. My name is Patricia Lyons. I am a professional photographer. And I, um, take a whole lot of photos with my phone.



Now don't you worry, I'm not going to show up at my next job with just my iPhone (though I can't swear that won't happen in the next ten years).

Like your mobile, the phone itself neatly wraps the fragments of my life, work and personal, into a sleek little glass-faced box. Oh yeah, we're talking color-coded kids' schedules on iCal, games to keep them happy during doctor visits, client emails, one touch weather (which is usually wrong), ESPN updates or FB checks, and texts from Dad. They're all on there. In one small unit. Sometimes I even use it to make phone calls.

But the thing is, the phone itself is freakishly close to my grasp at any given moment and has accidentally become an integral part of my personal photography vault. Now you might ask (as my husband has, while twitching and maybe holding the Visa bill in one hand), "why on earth would you shoot with a phone when you have all that expensive equipment?"

Because.

Because all day, every day, I see things I want to shoot and frame them up in my mind, but my camera is ______ (fill in blank with any location excluding my hand).
Because sometimes that big camera is, well, big, and within my purse could double as a medieval swinging weapon.
Because if I DID shoot all the time with my big camera, I'd fire myself for adding to my already overloaded processing workload.
Because I thought it would be cool to take a shot each day and slap them all together after some time to see if they encapsulate my week, month or year. Like a photojournal.
Because there are all these cool camera apps that make my inner geek giddy and make the photos look better.
Because it's great shooting exercise, especially those days I'm stuck in the office and not shooting at all.

And most importantly:

Because sometimes the best camera for capturing a moment, is simply the one you have in your hand.

Maine

August 2009.

Moosehead Lake, Maine.

My daughter and I lay on a massive rock, the kind you expect to find up north. Big and flat as the hood of a car and perfectly sloped like a lounge chair. I could hear the boys skipping stones and talking a few rocks over, but we hadn't seen another soul for hours. The breeze coming off the lake was strong and chilly, so we were snuggled together letting the warm stone toast our backs. It smelled so fresh and evergreen, in that Maine kind of way, that you just knew you were getting healthier with every breath.

My arm tucked around her, we just lay there looking up at the mountain and trees against an insanely blue sky, listening to the water slapping the rock just a few feet below. Doing nothing. Nothing. Nowhere to be, no time commitments. No soccer practices or homework. No shoots scheduled. No sitters. Nothing.

It was… perfect.

She’s a wiggly sort so it didn’t last too long, but long enough to say to her, “Remember this moment, right here. Remember the rock, the sky, and the two of us laying here and how this feels, ok? Can you promise to remember?” As if in asking I could make her record the memory, and burn it in mine as well.

Now it is January and it feels so long ago. We’re healthy and happy but harried and busy, and the rocks here are... smaller.

I still ask her every now and then if she remembers our rock. Just to be sure.

And she always says she does.

Dreaming Big

"But what if they DO come?" she asked, her hands pressed together, an uncontainable smile on her face, and her hopeful, chocolate-brown eyes looking up at me. Ugh. She really meant it. I don't do pragmatic very well when it comes to squashing kids' dreams, and really, sometimes just the possibility of it happening, however remote, is better than no chance at all.

I answered, "THAT would be so cool."

So the Jonas Brothers have been officially invited to Dylan's 8th birthday party. In August. Luckily we have about 5 months to work out the details, and we discussed that they will probably be on tour, but she can dream about it in the meantime. Hopefully they can sing a song or two before they hurry off. Or even if just Nick (the curly-haired one, she favors him because he has diabetes just like a friend of hers) can come we'll be thrilled.

I'll keep you posted on that one.

Catching up

Pretty soon you'll be wondering, does she even do weddings anymore? And the answer is YEAH she does. 2009 holds a lot of fun weddings, in fact, and more fantastic brides. Interestingly, only three weddings are in Richmond, and believe me I love those! In addition I'll be heading up to New York this summer to shoot in The Hamptons, and again in beautiful Locust Valley, also on Long Island. And I'll be shooting a beautiful oceanfront affair on my former stomping grounds, Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. Plus a plantation in the country. Several in Charlottesville. And more in the works. I even booked a few in 2010, but can't get ahead of myself here.

So for now I am hibernating and getting some blog posts up that have been on my to do list for awhile.

This shoot was done at my friend Freddie's house for R Home Magazine. Sarah Spencer Hurst did her excellent styling as always, and Freddie was such a wonderful shoot hostess! Aside from providing the lovely location, I was coming down with a horrible cold and she plied me with liquids and medicine to keep me going (little did we know it was the beginning of my pneumonia battle). Then when my babysitter had to bail at the last minute, she insisted I bring the kids back to play with hers after school so we could continue (I could have called in my back-up, i.e. husband, as it was late, but it's best not to bother investment manager types for at least two hours after the market closes these days. Trust me.) Freddie even shuttled one of my kids off to guitar lessons! I am not usually so heinously unprofessional, I swear, but it sure is nice to shoot in friends' homes should things go awry.

Here is her beautiful home, filled with some amazing art. Check out the Sally Mann photograph in the slow-shutter shot of her daughter walking. Love it!

Brothers

Last night Spencer came to me and said, "Mom, this book is really hard. Can you read some of it with me?" I was in the middle of finishing up a task and I said, "Give me a few minutes to wrap this up and I will." Apparently that didn't suffice. He walked out of my office and I heard his heavy steps recede down the hallway. Bad Mom, I know, I know. But if I stopped what I was doing every single time a child in this house needed something then nothing would ever get done.

I quickly finished up and went to find him, read with him and erase my bad Mom guilt. I walked down the dark hall and there it was, smack in the middle of my path. A glowing teepee that had been dragged from the playroom, with a steady voice from within that wasn't Spencer's. Because everyone knows the best place to read is tucked in a teepee, with a flashlight, in a dark hallway. I saw the flashlight moving and two shadows inside, heads together, and heard my older son reading steadily through the difficult words. Their growing bodies, at ages nine and ten easily filled the entire teepee they've had since they were two and three.

So bad Mom listened for a bit, then tiptoed away and let good brother save the day. Maybe she isn't so bad after all.

Of Dads and Brides.

I woke early and slowly opened my eyes. In the warm morning light I saw my daughter had crawled into our bed while we slept and snuggled up tight under her Daddy’s arm, he on his side. Her tiny arms were wrapped back around his long, tanned forearm which was the width of her little shoulders, swallowing her up in a toasty cocoon. She looked small but protected, content and blissful, like there was no safer place she could be and no place she’d rather be. She opened her big brown sleepy eyes and smiled at me, reached out a hand to grasp mine, then closed them again, burrowed in, and drifted back off to that happy place, still smiling. Basking in this supremely comfortable place. I kept saying to myself, don’t forget this. Don’t forget this beautiful scene.

They grow up so fast.

My own father’s eyes filled with tears when we danced at my wedding. It was the first of only two times I have ever seen him cry. I can’t help but carry these images and memories with me when I shoot any wedding. It’s the best part of my job, that I get to capture these incredible moments as they unfold for my brides. Fathers giving their daughters away, so to speak, and fathers probably wondering where the time went. Fathers, so deeply proud. It is a truly unique bond and such a privilege to observe.

So forgive me if I tear up when you are about to walk down the aisle. Or when you have that dance with your father. Or hear a sweet toast. But I’ll be right there, the not-so-professional professional, hiding my eyes behind the camera, snapping away, to help you remember too.

Shhhhh....

It's quiet. Too quiet. So quiet I can hear incoming emails ping in my office upstairs while hooking up my I.V. to the coffee maker. No sleepyheads slowly rising, soft footsteps creaking the stairs. No one leaning their elbows on the back of my chair while I check emails, rocking me backward, asking what we're doing today. No one riding their bikes alongside on my run, stopping abruptly to rescue misguided caterpillars and placing them back in the safety of the grass.

Yep, they're back at school. I miss them like you would not believe, but we were all ready. I think.

August was exciting and exhausting. 3 gorgeous Charlottesville weddings. 3 fun editorial shoots (2 covers, I still can't believe it). A trip to the beach featuring the most astoundingly perfect weather of the year. Front row at Bruce Springsteen, my ten year old mocking me when I told him I was so close I touched Bruce ("oooooh" he said, all faux googly-eyed with jazz hands a dazzling). He is so grounded. Then Michael Phelps. Usain Bolt. Jumping out of bed every night to stand 2 feet from the TV screaming, hopping up and down, urging ______ (enter Olympian's name here) to "COME ON!". Restless sleep as a result of adrenaline overload at those crazy hours.

And one wicked roller coaster that literally suspended us at the top, not enjoying the view on the horizon, but SIX long seconds, paused, looking at the ground, stadium seating only three rows deep because they wanted you to see how it would all go down. Yes, just over the crest. Six seconds. Looking at your shoes dangling and the pavement beyond. Props to the masochist who came up with that one. Seriously, what was his childhood like? The ride was insane, but easily the best coaster I've been on in years.

So now, just getting caught up. Completing the summer's weddings. Returning calls. Meeting lovely brides for next year. Booking editorial shoots. Navigating this Facebook thing, late to the table but learning. Oh, and homework. They already started homework. No rest for the weary.

5 more hours until they come home. I wonder what they're doing? Sigh.



No, she does not drink Diet Coke, she was carrying it for me. Sheesh! My husband even asked if it was my beer. Riiiight!

Summer

As my daughter and I strolled through Target yesterday we stopped in our tracks at the new school supplies section. While I personally love school supplies and the yummy smells that accompany them (erasers! fresh notebooks! crayons in... more colors than actually exist in the natural world!), I thought Dylan was going to cry. I thought I was going to cry. Our jaws dropped and I panicked, checking my cell just to see what date it was (hey, it's hard to keep track). "But Mom, we CAN'T go back to school, we haven't done anything fun yet!" she pleaded. Oh, come on, we're at Target, I thought. What's more fun that that??

Rest assured we have had a great summer so far, but six-year olds have reeeally short-short-term memories. She couldn't remember past the previous day spent catching up on chores around the house. Prior to that we had spent a fun weekend with good friends at Virginia Beach followed by a week in Bethany Beach, Delaware. Hours in the waves. Putt-putt. Fisher's caramel popcorn served warm and gooey at the walk-up window. Fourth of July fireworks and sparklers. Sandy sandwiches. Grotto's Pizza. Anchoring off tiny islands and crabbing for hours while playing Scrabble. Bike rides. Fishing. Movies. Sleeping in. Losing track of time.

On the work front, lots of great things going on that I can't post quite yet. A few cool magazine features, beautiful weddings, and really fun bridal shoots. August should be a great blog posting month so keep coming back.

I did not take very many photos on our trips except these few momentous occasions. It may sound criminal to not whip out my camera on vacation, but it's a choice I have to make sometimes between participating and observing. And at the rate this summer is flying by, I'd much rather join in!

Ella

I have typed and erased this entry ten times over the past week. Once I even had four paragraphs written but it didn’t sound right. It just didn’t tell the story right. I really want to get it right.

This is a happy story. About a family and their new baby girl, Ella. About the crazy love that sets in the minute you lay eyes on your child for the first time, bonds that run deeper than we can understand, and even about cute twin siblings who con you into thinking they are shy but then stand two inches from the lens, front and center. And want to show you their toys. And follow you everywhere, those gorgeous blue eyes trained on you unless they hear "gummy bears" and tear down the hall to find the magical source.

I met this lovely family through Noah’s Children, Richmond’s pediatric hospice, and Kathy, social worker extraordinaire, to whom I have gladly given my services over the past five years taking photos of incredible families just like Ella's.

Here's the hard part of the story. Ella has a chromosome disorder that will significantly shorten her life. She might not have made it to birth, wasn't even supposed to make it home from the hospital. A year is optimistic.

Ella just celebrated her one month birthday. To this family, whose dream at one time was just to meet Ella, or hold her once, this is the most precious blessing. They feel like the luckiest people on the planet. They know what will come, but are living every moment in the moment. They are the reason this a happy story, their faith and strength are truly inspiring.

So they let me in, and I photographed them with Ella and her brother and sister. And as they always do, these Noah’s families, they affected me. Reminded me of how lucky we all are. How precious these little people in our lives are. How incredibly blessed we are for every single minute, every single day we have with them. To live in the moment.

Here is Ella's slideshow from our time together.

Noah's

"Thank you for everything. We have found so much good in people since she was born", the Mom looked me in the eyes and said as I gathered my things. I didn't know what to say back. I mean, what do you say? What do you say to someone who is going to lose their child?

For the past four years I have given my photographic services to the families whose sweet children are in hospice care with Noah's Children. They range in ages from birth to roughly 16, and have various conditions that will take their lives way too early. Some are first born children, some have siblings. All are very, very deeply loved.

This morning I did a very special photo shoot for a family whose daughter was born with a genetic condition that was expected to take her life before she could even leave the hospital. She is home now, thirteen days old. The parents are all too aware of what the future holds, they just don't know when. So they will hold her, hug her, feed her, love her and cherish every single second.

Her older brother and sister are too young to understand, which I guess has its benefits, and greeted me shyly at the door hanging at their Mom's skirt, protected. Within minutes they were following me around, curious, then graduated to full on hams, stealing the show.

People always ask, how do you do it? How do you not do it. as carzy as life is, how can you not share your abilities. I guess my hands don't shake as much. I'm not as scared when I go in. I don't cry quite as much afterward. In some ways, I suppose, I have come to terms with it. I go in, do my job, and feel thankful that I can give these families a small bit of peace in their grief, that they'll know at least they have these photos in the years forward when of course they'd rather have the child.

I think the most incredible thing is when I see these families, they give me strength. It blows me away every time I hear these exact words, "We are just so thankful we have her for this little while".

Seven Sure Signs it's Summer

The kids are out of school and the signs are clear:

1.) Baseball is over. I'm pretty bummed about this one, but my nerves were about shot after the playoffs. Alas, they won the Little League championships in a nail-biting finale!

2.) My hair is not cooperating. At all. Richmond humidity is legend, and I feel like a human barometer.

3.) Can't keep food in the house. Buy it, bring it in, it disappears. Every morsel. Like they're starving. What did these kids eat at school? Then there's the ice cream man who now circles the 'hood with his sqwawking truck that sends my kids into a comical keystone-cop frenzy. You would seriously think they have never seen ice cream before.

4.) Band Aids and Neosporin are being dealt out like cards at a black jack table. I'm telling you, the injury per day stats are ridiculous. We're crossing fingers Dylan doesn't hit the ER for busting her chin for the fourth time. Odds aren't good according to the doctors. No kidding, the ER doc said "See you in a few months" last time we were in. Great.

5.) Not to mention, I have removed 9 ticks so far. 3 from places that should never, ever have ticks. Gentlemen, you may cringe...now. Poor kid (and poor Mom).

6.) Sleep, glorious sleep. We are all sleeping past last week's 6:45 am school alarm and ALL are much happier for it. I love seeing their cute, sleepy-eyed, tanned faces coming down to breakfast with crazy chlorine-infused bed head.

7.) And last but not least, weddings, weddings, weddings!! I shot a really beautiful plantation wedding last weekend that was pretty much perfect and defied all weather predictions, and have one this weekend that with an adorable couple I can't wait to meet. I will share the photos this coming week!

Have a great weekend.

Summer Music, Movies and Books

A small diversion while I get caught up on some photos here.....

OK, the books part is a joke. Since the last three novels I read were "I Wish That I Had a Dog", "I Love My Dog" and the eagerly anticipated follow-up, "The Very Angry Girl" (who, it seems, did not get a dog) by Dylan Lyons, I cannot actually comment on books. Except to say I wish I had more time to read them.

Movies have temporarily replaced books during my busy season because I can get more satisfaction with a great story that will all be over by the time I put my head down for the night. After a day of shooting or editing, it's all I can do to just sit there, escape and absorb, little letters being a challenge for my tired eyes.

Lori sent me a link to a cool Vancouver Site that listed their top ten indies love stories of the year. It's just what I needed. I printed it out and am making my way through the list this summer so I thought I'd share. Indie films are my weakness, they're fresh, unexpected, quirky, off-beat, often hysterical, totally original, and typically have great soundtracks. I also have a Patrick Dempsey threshold that has been surpassed for the year, so.... here goes:

1.) Once
2.) All the Real Girls
3.) Lars and the Real Girl
4.) Me and You and Everyone We Know
5.) Conversations with Other Women
6.) Waitress
7.) Broken English
8.) Wristcutters: A Love Story
9.) Shopgirl
10.) Dedication

On the music front, just wanted to say that Richmond is really stepping up the live music scene. Finally. We went to The National last night to see Marie Digby (there's an accent on the e in Marie but I can't remember how to make it happen) and Eric Hutchinson, and they were AWESOME. And you simply couldn't ask for a better venue. If you haven't been there, check out the schedule and find a reason to go! Marie Digby is coming back August 1 with Gavin Degraw, FYI.

Marie has some beautiful original songs (see Kate and Jay's slideshow) but I also love her cover of Rihanna's "Umbrella". We chatted with her after the show and she is this tiny, gorgeous, sweet girl who started playing piano at age 3. You can tell! She also plays guitar, sings incredibly, writes. Gushing talent. All the guys (and some of the girls) in our group left there with HUGE Marie Digby crushes. Check her out:

MmmmMaroma...

The Coffee Fairy never came this morning. No piping hot carafe of coffee with a mini New York Times mysteriously delivered to my porch. No Manuel to swing by my breakfast table with a pitcher of fresh-squeezed, impossibly-orange orange juice, sliced papaya and mango. No Moses to smile and wish me a "Buenos dias, Senora Patricia" and bring a basket of homemade breads and pastries. No sitting on the veranda with David overlooking the translucent azure water, breeze in my hair, wondering if it even matters what time it is when I wonder what time it is. And definitely no Serge clearing sand off our lounge bed on the beach (with a small dry paint brush to get even the smallest grains... and no, I could not make that up) and starting the endless supply of anise-tainted margaritas with a side of 'fresh as fresh gets' guacamole.

Sigh. We're baaaack!

OK, I did miss the kids a lot so it is good to be home, but we had one heck of a grown-ups only getaway to celebrate my birthday (which is now officially over, 30 days later). David and I spent the most decadent 4 days at a gorgeous and romantic resort tucked in the Mayan Riviera of Mexico. It's a fine line between sharing and bragging, so I'll let the photo speak for themselves. But put this 'note to self' in your PDA, rolodex or a post-it above your desk: "I absolutely must go to Maroma Resort and Spa sometime in my life". Now back to work!


* all photos copyright 2008 Patricia Lyons Photography

Sisters

Close-age siblings share a special relationship. They have their own little world, sometimes completely losing themselves in work or play. Often not even doing the same things but just being near, a deep comfort in knowing the other one is breathing just a few feet away. For photos they fold into each other, easily connecting, awkwardness never an issue. And laughter is spontaneous and genuine, spurred by just a look or a knowing nudge.

One of my sisters is only two years older than me. We did everything together, sharing a room and a childhood. I cried, screamed, cried some more every single day for months when she went off to kindergarten. I didn't know how to not be with her. I mean, my entire life she had been RIGHT there, then suddenly she was marching off in her new school uniform with her shiny lunch box, and I was supposed to stay home alone? Ooooh, I was so mad I scribbled in all of her books. Every page. Of every book. Which was kind of dumb since they were my books too. Mom was not happy. I can still remember sitting on the floor between our beds for hours erasing page after page of angry pencil, my dress covered in a growing community of Pink Pearl eraser crumbs.

This might explain why Mom enrolled me in school a year early.

In my job, it's so fun to see close-age siblings at every age. I get to hear their stories at rehearsal dinners, see Maids of Honor and Best Men stand by their buddies at the altar, beaming. And all of them have great stories and closeness. That gets me every time.

These two are going to have such a fun journey together.

More Kate and Jay... and Bruce!

I couldn't resist putting a few more up here. It's been a busy week and as I edit all these photos it's hard not to share a few. The photo above was from our quick beach detour (I loved how they looked at eachother) and the one below in front of Kate's home. Her Mom has exquisite taste so it was fun to play with her decor on some of the detail shots. The photo of Kate on the grass really came to life as the sun peeked from behind the clouds. We waited, waited, they were calling for her to get ready to go, then the sun popped out just in time and wow, it was worth the wait! I love backlighting, the way the sun filters through the leaves and her hair, but also softly bounces onto her face.



I had a great week catching up but a huge highlight for me was the Bruce Springsteen concert Wednesday night. Every time I see him I get thrown back to my teens as he is inextricably tied to so many memories. I remember stealing my sister's "Born to Run" album, locking the door, laying on my stomach in front of my stereo turntable and singing along to every song, over and over. When we got older we'd drive to the beach, windows open, howling at the top of our lungs.... wait for it...wait for it.... here it comes.... "A ONE TWO THREE FOUR, the highway's jammed with broken heroes...

I loved how each album was a collection of vivid short stories, each song introducing me to Mary, Eddie, Spanish Johnny, Jane, Kitty, Annie or of course, Rosalita. How each song created these images for me, no music video necessary, and I could almost see Mary standing on the porch, screen door slamming, dress waving. Or how I'd get goose bumps every single time Rosie heard that the record company had just given him that big advance. He's the master storyteller.

...and the poets down here don't write nothing at all, they just stand back and let it all be...

He's still the Boss. 58 and totally rockin'. WOOHOOO!!! Ok, back to work.

A Happy Birthday

At first I thought it was perfect. Well how about that, what a sweet message in my birthday fortune cookie! “Keep true to the dreams of your youth”, I told the kids. “Look”, I showed my husband, "such a cool fortune for a birthday".

And, as always, one of the kids said, “But what does it mean?”.

I read it again and thought, “Huh. I have no freakin’ clue”.

When I was five I dreamed I would grow up to be a princess. (In this economy, cushy princess jobs are at an all time low so... phew!)

When I was eight I just wanted to live with my family, and of course my stuffed animals, for ever and ever. (My parents are so happy that didn’t work out).

When I was ten I dreamed Parker Stevenson would marry me and I'd be the first Hardy girl. (and where is he now?)

When I was a teenager I dreamed I’d go to medical school. (I agree, that is just scary).

When I was working on my MBA the big plan was to be a ruthless businesswoman and make millions in really cool suits with short skirts. (Ally McBeal. Snort).

But truthfully. Seriously. I never in a million years dreamed I’d have this. All of this. My own incredible, beautiful family. A great job that I really love, in photography of all things.

So I taped that fortune to the wall beside my desk to remind me that dreams can change. Maybe you won’t keep true to the dreams of your youth, but you should definitely hold onto them so you can see how much you’ve grown.

Thanks for the best birthday ever! Don't worry, no more deep thoughts for today.

Carolina Liar

I missed out on that whole chapter about 'not talking to strangers'. Don't worry, I've watched enough episodes of Law & Order not to be foolish, but I really enjoy meeting new people and hearing their stories.

This is especially true if (insert stranger's name here) lives somewhere far away or leads a life that isn't like mine at all, giving me a little window to peek out of my oft too comfortable world. Sometimes these conversations take unexpected turns, like when I met Massachusetts-based filmmaker, Linda, in a Las Vegas Starbucks and over the next 6 months we orchestrated (with lots of help) a fundraiser that raised $85,000 for cancer research. Or when I picked up the phone and called a Vancouver photographer whose work I admired, and over the next five years she became one of my closest friends despite the 3,000 miles between us.

My buddies Jill and Kelly are like this as well, and when we were in L.A. last January (a trip that was also the result of the fundraiser) we were a walking talking interview machine. I think it's partly a southern thing that can make people really uncomfortable, or totally open them up which is way more fun. Either way it made the trip what it was, though we could have lived without the conspiracy theorist at the pool. He was so freaky.

So in our very happenin' hotel lobby one night, we started chatting with a kind stranger about the difficulty of texting on an iPhone, which eventually brought us into the world of Chad Wolf and his soon-to-be-famous band Carolina Liar. About three hours and many twists and turns later we were at a party and asked Chad to sing us something from his work-in-progress. He kindly obliged (though Damien Rice would not... I think we scared the lad) with his writing partner Tobias on the guitar. We were in awe. We kept looking at eachother going, "Wow, he is really, reeeeeallly good!". Loved the songs, loved his voice, and to top it off he was just a really nice guy. When we told him about the fundraiser and how we ended up in L.A., he responded "Man, that is awesome. You guys are helping save people's lives, I am just making music." Do you love him or do you love him? We said we'd keep an eye (ear?) out for Carolina Liar down the road and wished them well.

Fast forward several months and their songs have been playing on "The Hills" for three weeks in a row, their video for "I'm Not Over" even playing at the end. While I personally exceed the legal age limit for watching the show, I can totally grasp the greatness of that coup. It has been fun to watch, from afar, success come to someone insanely talented, but also seemingly humble and grateful. From playing coffee houses to signing with Atlantic Records, then landing on a cult hit like "The Hills?". Odds aren't high. They are on a radio tour now and even blew through Richmond last week. Hopefully they'll be back to play soon.

Their album drops on June 3, but two of their songs are available on iTunes. Seriously, beat the rush, download now. I'll be saying "I knew them when" (even though I don't really) before too long.

Note: I did not take that photo, but couldn't find who to credit. I guess Atlantic Records? Please don't sue me...

A Weekend in the Mountains

I white-knuckled the steering wheel up the seemingly never ending driveway, the kids in back screaming "Don't look down!!" and "AAAAAACK!!!". Not terribly helpful. Of course I had to glance over, super fast, and immediately below us was the valley, lilliputian houses and rolling farms in emerald green patches ringed by the famous Blue Ridge mountains. Guard rails would have been a welcome sight considering my truck was almost the entire width of the lane, and I would be lying if I said my heart wasn't beating out of my chest when we came face to face with another truck. But somehow we squeezed by (hold breath and cue more kids 'playful' screaming) and made it to the top.

The reward, the impressive stone house and spectacular backdrop, was best summed up in Peyton's exclamation "OH MY GOD!". I said "Peyton, you don't say God, you say gosh". He responded "No Mom, this one deserves an 'Oh my God'". The boy had a point.

Our weekend destination was a friend's family retreat to celebrate Allison's (Queen of 'the running man') birthday. Home for the following two days would be a... well, a castle, nestled on the side of a mountain. We joined 36 friends, some new, some old and all great. The next 48 hours on 'activity mountain' would include hiking, hitting golf balls, shooting skeet, tennis, foosball, late night ping pong, dancing, eating, drinking, huge country breakfasts, bocce, and a midnight limbo contest under the watchful eyes of a few authentic suits of armor, which I think have seen a lot in their time and are very confused.

The kids spent a lot of the time pushing on things in an attempt to make bookcases revolve and find hidden passages. I would not have been surprised to see it happen, alas, it did not.

One afternoon we all took a slow hayride to the top of the mountain which was not a peak so much as a huge grassy field from which you could see 360 degrees. Breathtaking. We played an aggressive game of kickball. Haven't done that in, oh, twenty years. I told Peyton the view from the top made it easy to imagine how Lewis and Clark felt on their expedition across the Appalachian Mountains. He decided it looked more like the opening credits of "The Simpsons". That's what you get with a ten-year old. And again he had a point.

And to my Vancouver friends who are saying 'what mountains?', pipe down. Those are Virginia Mountains. And that's my daughter holding a HUGE lethal Virginia snake of some sort. Actually, maybe that isn't my kid. The two making 'ick' faces seem more genetically connected. I mean, ewwwww...

We did it!

Yep, we did it. We woke up in time, got through the traffic and made it to the starting line at 8 am in the rain. Tadaaaaa! That should have garnered it's own medal. Actually, it wasn't that bad because the kids were so fired up....and it didn't hurt that we had gotten some fine lookin' Krispy Kremes to lure them out the door.

So our kids ran their one-mile race on Saturday morning. It was chilly and soggy, but awesome. They raised $2,000.00 for cancer research through their efforts which is pretty insane. Thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who supported them! They pumped their little legs as fast as they could. I was such a proud mama, on the side cheering and fighting back the biggest lump in my throat. Watching my littlest one run a mile with her Dad by her side was too much for my emotional self, and my 8 year old surprised us with his 7:30 time! It is freaky when your kids start to outperform you. I guess I'd better get used to it. Or start running faster.

Overall, the Kids' run and the 10k race raised over $500,000 for Richmond's very own VCU Massey Cancer Center. David and I ran the 10k, which is something to be experienced. It's the 4th largest race in the country down the most gorgeous stretch of Richmond, regardless of the pouring rain, and somehow functions like a well-oiled machine with 30,000 participants.

I thought I had a good pace going on mile 5 but then got passed by a tall gorilla-suited guy on my left. Even worse, the Chiquita banana passed me on my right. I could not possibly make that up. I could handle being passed by the monkey, but the fruit was too much.

And now back to work. Wedding season kicks in here in a few weeks and I am so ready. The next 6 months are going to be wild, with really fun, cute couples and weddings taking me all over the east coast . Sea Island, Jekyll Island, Pennsylvania, Charlottesville, Irvington and Virginia Beach. Even a couple in Richmond. I am so excited and my kids will be thrilled for me to point my cameras elsewhere!