253-841-3665

I finally did it. I disconnected our land line after nearly 30 years.

It was difficult to do because of the sentimental value 253-841-3665 holds. We used to talk to real people on that line, not just solicitors and robo callers.

My daughters talked to their girl friends and a few (maybe many) boyfriends on that number. We got our stretching exercise leaning across the counter to pick up the handset. There were probably countless hours of doodling while seated and talking on the phone. And it was always a race to see who could pick up the phone first because at one time or another, we all anticipated a special call. And for years, I've refused to give up the line with the excuse it would be used in an emergency.

But the time had come with the impending remodel of the kitchen. Although hard to see in this photo, the old, yellowed, plastic US West phone set hangs on the wall on the left side of the counter amid the coffee containers, book stand and charging station. Within a couple months, there will be a backsplash of tile covering the area where the phone used to reside. And we'll probably buy a crank phone to use in an emergency.

So it goes. Time marches on. Out with the old and in with the new, but from now on, I'll gaze at that spot in the kitchen and remember way back when.

Memoir Writing Class 2015

It's that time of year again. I'm teaching two eight week sessions of memoir writing at the Puyallup Senior Activity Center.

Every Friday I'm privileged to spend at least two hours with a group of women (occasionally a man will venture in) who want to tell their stories. Yesterday was the last class of the first session.

 

"I'll go first. I want to get this over with," one of the participants said yesterday. We all laughed, but with understanding because the assignment for the week was to write about a difficult or sad time in life, how the person got through it, and what was learned from the experience. It was the same assignment for everyone and many of the other seven women felt the same way.

Most of my students write their histories to leave as a legacy for family members, but there are some who simply write for themselves with no intention of sharing with anyone other than the women who come together once a week.

From the stories that were shared yesterday, it was evident the women had gained confidence in their writing and trusted the others to keep what they heard within the group. There were a few tears and certainly a lot of sympathy for what was revealed from their past.

We ended the day on a brighter note, reading excerpts from high school students' writings that English teachers have collected over the years. The way in which they used similes was hilarious. Here are three of my favorites:

Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.

The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

And so it goes with these classes. Strangers come together, share their histories, find common bonds, are amazed by what they can remember and write about, laugh a lot and sometimes shed a tear with one another. Many have returned to class two and three times.

A student announced at the end of class yesterday that I don't get paid for teaching. That really isn't true. I get excited about spending Fridays with my new acquaintances, some of whom have become friends. I'm honored to hear about their lives and help them hone their writing skills. So when it comes to payment, I'm more than compensated, not in dollars and cents, but with intangibles more precious than gold. 

The Dance

I wrote this last summer, but it seems appropriate to post on Valentine's Day.

I glanced over my shoulder and felt a twinge of envy. I want to do that. It’s been so long and was so much fun. There in the middle of the park was a couple, smiling, laughing, oblivious to others around them while they danced. They were the only ones swing dancing to a toe-tapping tune being played by two guitarists on the performance platform on one side of the park.

It was a beautiful, warm summer evening. Not many people were listening to the mini-concert. A few vendors had tents at the other end of the park while most of the activity centered on the children’s play area. From my perch on a picnic table bench, I looked back at the two-story jungle gym to make sure I could still see my three year-old grandson, Benjamin, dashing up the climbing rocks, running across the castle bridge and squealing with delight as he slid down the winding tunnel slide. Red-faced and happy, he glanced over at me to make sure I was where I was supposed to be.
When I first met Scott, we danced a lot. I owned a dating service, a business I started in early 1990. Many said the business was self-serving since I met two of my husbands over the years I was involved with the Singles Resource Center. Scott was the last. We met at a Christmas function held at my home and later would encounter each other at the Friday night dances. Scott was an excellent dancer having honed his skill as a teen with lots of practice. It paid off when he became the center of attention at high school dances. He loved being the center of attention and he still does.

When we danced it was usually a slow dance; the kind of dance that somehow became more than just a dance. The steps couldn’t be labeled, because there was more sensual swaying than choreography. I leaned into him and could always smell his cologne. I’d caress the back of his neck as he held me close.

 He left me to swing and line dance with other partners and friends. He wasn’t possessive, but he was on a mission to win me over with charisma, charm and slow dancing. At one point I told him, “You’d be perfect if you weren’t a smoker.” He won me over anyway and I married the perfectly imperfect man. Scott continued smoking for many more years, even after five-way heart bypass surgery.

We don’t dance any more. Scott’s smoking finally caught up with him and he now has the lungs of a four year-old supporting the body of a two hundred and forty-five pound man. It’s a struggle for him to move at all.

How do I feel about how our lives together have evolved? Prior to meeting Scott, I actually prayed for a man who would love me with his whole heart, unconditionally, if that was even humanly possible. In previous relationships, I had spent much too much time trying to prove my worth and not getting what I needed in return. Over the years as a single working mother, I finally learned I could survive on my own and I had value as a person.

Independence became a priority. I wanted to maintain that status, but was still seeking love. Someone once told me, “What you need is a man you can take out of the closet when you need him.”  Instead, I was given the gift of Scott, and so far I haven’t been able to keep him in any closet!

It is still amazing to me that I don’t even question his love and never have. He loves me beyond what I deserve and tells me that every day. He’s supported my endeavors throughout our marriage, whether it was listening to me unload about responsibilities working for the State or encouraging my start-up business ideas after I retired. He’s accepted my daughters and loves them as his own.

He’s still perfectly imperfect and that has become more apparent as the years go by. Now and then, he also points out my imperfections, so we have lots in common, but what’s important is that I still have my independence and I have Scott’s love, exactly what I asked for.  Do I wish life were different at times? Of course, particularly for Scott. He often says, “You didn’t sign up for this (his health issues).”

“Yes, I did,” is my truthful reply.

We now do a dance of a different kind. He leans on me and that’s really okay.

 

Passion

Passion... and I don't mean hot, under the covers (or not), lust-filled desire. I'm talking about that compelling interest that occupies your thoughts first thing in the morning and last thing at night. It's the thing that perhaps you dream about and spend an inordinate amount of time during waking hours either engaged in or wanting to.

So what happens when you have more than one of these compelling interests and one day you wake up and one is becoming more of a "love interest" than the other?

That's what's happening to me. For six years, I've devoted time, energy and money to a particular passion that initially drew me to it, rewarded me by fueling my creative juices, gave me lots of positive feedback and allowed me to meet incredible people. Since the first of the year, my heart has been captured by another and I'm finding the siren song irresistible.

The only way I could cope with this push/pull was to set aside passion number one, photography, for at least a month, perhaps longer. And for every resolution, there's always an exception which I've already made. There are certain clients to whom I just can't say "no." These are the folks I can't wait to see and for whom I truly want to capture memorable moments. I'm sure I'll continue to make those exceptions, but I'm not out beating the bushes for new clients.

In the meantime, I've become compulsive about writing - not this blog which is obvious since this is my first in 2015 and it's the last day of January! I've decided this is the year to pull my father's stories out of the file cabinet and weave them into a memoir about his life. For some reason, it's much easier to write about someone else, even though a family member, than it is to write about myself. Now that I've committed to my father's project, lots of wonderful things are happening. I've been a member of a writer's group that meets monthly for almost a year, but this month two other memoirists are joining the group, both published authors who will be such an inspiration, along with the already talented women in the group.

I also found a company that is converting VHS tapes of my father and his stories into a CD that I'll actually be able to use. But most importantly, I've been able to spend time with my 80 year old sister, Lore, learning more about her mother, my dad's first wife. She had in her possession letters written by her mother, Dorothy, to my dad, Webb, over a period of four years from 1936 to 1939. Those letters are now on loan to me.

I find I'm also more enthused about teaching my memoir writing class at the Puyallup Senior Activity Center. I'm experiencing the discipline of writing that I talk to my students about every Friday. It's a good idea to be able to do what you teach!

Will I tire of this passion too? Perhaps. Will I be able to pick up photography again where I left off? I don't know. But the beauty of it all is that I am blessed to be able to have these kind of choices, these kind of interests. I have something positive to look forward to each day. Who knows - perhaps there are still other undiscovered passions in my future, other sirens that will call my name.

It's that Time Slipping by Thing Again!

2015. How did that happen? The obvious answer is one day at a time; one moment at a time. Is it just my perception or are those moments and days slipping by faster and faster as I age.

My 2014 book of blog posts which I print ever year and give to my daughters, will be thin indeed. But as I stated before, it wasn't for lack of stories to tell, it was lack of time to sit down and write them!

The first three months were quiet as far as photography was concerned. It gave me more time, with the encouragement of a friend, to make progress on writing my memoir, From Australia with Love. My goal was to write about 3000 words a week which I did for quite a while. I was even inspired to join a writers' group called the Wordsmiths. We meet once a month and critique one another's work. It also made me realize what an undertaking it is to write my own memoir when others start reacting to it and making suggestions for revision. I teach others to write memoir and over the last three years, it's been fun and inspirational teaching two eight-week sessions from January through April, but I don't have time in class or between classes (until 2014) to write myself.

March blew in and with it a resurgence in photography. Seniors and their families realize these young people are about to graduate and perhaps leave the nest. They decide it's time to get photos of these precious days. And seniors like locations, primarily parks, but again this year I had a senior who was able to talk Korum Ford into loaning him a Dodge Charger, just for photos.  A couple years before his brother borrowed a Ford Mustang Convertible. Photo shoots where people bring their own creativity and personality into the picture are my favorites. I also did more boudoir photography this year. One of my clients had access to horses and a barn as well as classic cars. This was a session that took two days to complete, but it was well worth the effort. The results were stunning.

With the help of Shelly and Vee, we shot 11 weddings and three military balls. The military balls were interesting and educational. Each company had its own culture and character, but all were moving with regard to  ceremonies and recognition of valor.

Family photography is still my mainstay throughout the year. Many families return for milestone events in their lives and their children's' lives. About one third of my 109 clients were returning for additional photo sessions. I'm so happy they like the results. I now  have over 35,000 photos on my website and at times I look at those pictures and am a little awestruck that I was able to capture such a special moment in someone's life. What a blessing!

I continued my involvement as Treasurer of my Sumner IG P.E.O. women's' group which raises scholarship funds for women to continue their education. This group of sisters has grown to include some of my best friends, because I suggested the group to them and because those who were already there have become good friends. And it's just plain fun!

A huge accomplishment this year was receipt of the IRS determination letter for Friends At Your Metro Animal Shelter (FAYMAS), a non-profit started by Chris Lynch and me. Our mission is increase pet adoptions, improve the quality of shelter animals' lives, and promote spay and neuter for animals in our local public shelter. Once we received the determination, we scrambled to create the non-profit. It's very similar to starting a small business with lots of details and logistics to consider. But by year-end, we had our board, a strategic plan, bylaws, a website, a Facebook presence, 56 members and most importantly, we had helped to raise $3000 for an ongoing cat kennel project and directly gave another $2390 to the shelter to help with the same project. Since we were able to accomplish all that in about three months, just think what we'll do in 2015!

I see my sister, Lore, about once a month or so. She lives in Tukwila and even though it's not that far, time gets away from us. We talk often and she catches me up on what's happening with her five children. As one who is very frugal with her money, she's managed to accumulate enough frequent flyer miles so that she and her oldest daughter, Nicolette, will be heading for Hawaii in April to visit Lore's son, Kevin,  and his family and her youngest daughter, Nanette, and family. Wish I could go.

My daughters, Courtney and Kendall and their families, continue to do well. Courtney is not only working at Children's Hospital in Seattle as a supervising nurse, she's also working in Puyallup at Good Samaritan on a per diem basis. Her daughter, Karina came to visit a couple times this year which is always a treat. Hard to believe she's a senior at Bob Jones University this year. We got reacquainted with her in her freshman year. It's that time slipping by faster and faster thing again. Ron had an adventure working in Alaska for about a month, but is home now recuperating from knee surgery. Ben is just as much fun as ever, but I can't believe he turned four years old.

In mid-December, Courtney informed me they have decided to move to Montana. Ron grew up there and they love the lifestyle it affords for themselves and for Ben. Ron's daughter, Marissa, lives in the area they are considering also. I'm sad, of course, and can't imagine not having them nearby, even if we don't see each other all the time, but they have to do what's best for their family.

Kendall and Jon moved at the end of the year also, but not far away. They're now in a new development in Bonney Lake and loving it. Jon's not fond of the commute to Boeing being a bit further and Kendall is trying to figure out how to cut down on her commute to Puyallup, but things have a way of working out well for this family.

Scott's children, Summer and Steve have prospered this year. Steve has a new position as a construction superintendent with a company that builds multi-million homes. His best news is that he's found the love of his life in Kelly and they've settled with Trent into a lovely home in Tacoma. The commute for both of them to Bellevue isn't much fun, but they're making the best of it for now.

Summer is still working for the Wright family in Seattle a few days a week and Michael's advertising company is doing very well. Grandchildren Margo, five and a half, and Addison, who just turned 10 are now on the same school schedule, so that's a relief for their mom and dad.

Devon and Laurel, Scott's oldest son and wife, live in Katy, Texas. Their days a filled with work, a dog, fishing and enjoying life.

On the home front, Scott continues to sleep a lot. In fact we're headed to the Sleep Study clinic tomorrow to see if he can tolerate a CPAP machine. His pulmonologist is getting pretty stern with him about his sedentary life style. When he is up, it's all about his recording studio. One of these days, he may actually record someone! Perhaps that's what 2015 will bring. It will also bring a 70th birthday for me and a 71st for Scott.

How did that happen?! It's that time slipping by thing again. www.BonnieKingPhotography.com

One Thing Leads to Another

Dot fell off the back of my computer desk - ker plunk. I would have laughed at the kitten except that I was on the phone with a customer service rep who was trying to help me download an electronic gift certificate. The moment Dot hit all the cords behind my desk, my monitor died.

I asked the tech to hold on a minute while I fiddled with all the wires and cords, tried plugging and unplugging, but to no avail. She was very willing to just stay on the line with me (she was probably playing a game and grateful for some uninhibited time), but when several more minutes elapsed, I told her I'd have to call back.

And so one thing led to another. I'd been thinking of trading monitors with Scott who has a larger HP that he rarely uses. The dust was also building up on the monitor shelf and this is my week to try and reorganize my office, so... I unplugged the monitor, hauled it out to Scott's studio, unplugged his and hauled his back in to my office. But wouldn't you know, the male/female plug thingees from the monitors to the computers weren't compatible.

Never one to be deterred once I've made up my mind about something, I was off to Best Buy to find an adapter or two. What fun trying to explain my predicament to the salesman. I apologized for being so inarticulate: "You know, the blue receptacle with the holes that the cord screws into? Well it doesn't exist on one of the computers and the plug doesn't have screws, it just needs a slot on the other computer." He told me not to apologize, but he was probably thinking, "Not another one!"

$70 later and both monitors now have new homes. (I didn't mention the switch to Scott because I want to see how long before he notices. And no, I didn't try the monitor in his studio to see if it actually works. :-) But the monitor in my office works. Wow! It is really big and bright and unfortunately - a completely different resolution. I'll now have to calibrate the monitor color to match my printer and the photography lab I use. Argh...

The last time Dot tried to help by sitting in front of my monitor, she tipped over my coffee cup. That cost me the price of a new keyboard. The Best Buy guy also suggested I keep the cat out of my office. Brilliant suggestion, but not one a cat lover would ever consider.

I still haven't been able to download my gift certificate. so I'll call a customer rep back tomorrow. We'll see what adventures that will bring. www.BonnieKingPhotography.com. 

Where have all the Blog Posts Gone?

My book of blog posts for this year will be a bit thin. With only ten posts this entire year, you would think I have nothing to write about. Not true. My life has been so full, something had to be placed on the back burner and unfortunately, it's been my blog.

The memoir writing classes I taught between January and May were exceptional. I've been privileged to meet interesting women with histories rich and varied. Although not just a class for women, it seems women are more interested in preserving their lives in memoir than men are - or at least that's been my experience in the last three years of teaching at the Puyallup Senior Center. One woman in particular is certainly worth mentioning. She turns on her writing instrument like a faucet and out flows remarkable stories of her past accompanied by words of wisdom and descriptions so sumptuous you can taste them. Jacquie is also an animal lover and because of that - we have a lot in common. We've also become friends.

Although my blog suffered this year, I did begin writing my own memoir in earnest, From Australia with Love. It didn't occur to me this might be seen as a take-off on the movie, From Russia with Love. It's not. Instead it's a story about young love, all facets of it, fraught with poor judgment and failed attempts to get it right. I made great progress between January and April and even joined a writers' group, the Wordsmiths. They've helped me revise and refocus, but even with their help, once photography season opened, progress ceased.

 I was off with camera in hand to shoot weddings, families, high school seniors and a few boudoir sessions. It is a passion that enables me to be in the moment, concentrating on each person, looking for a nuance that speaks to their personality and hopefully recording something memorable in the process. I must admit, I enjoy looking back at the photos I've taken because I can relive the memories we created together and I often marvel at what I was able to capture.

Photography also introduced me to the Metro Animal Shelter where I've taken photos almost weekly for two and a half years of pets that are up for adoption. Of course that's resulted in adoptions of my own. Dog Charlie and cat Tot now lead the life - not of Riley, but with Riley, a cat we already adopted from my daughter, Courtney and family. And becoming involved with the shelter led to the creation of a non-profit, FAYMAS - Friends At Your Metro Animal Shelter. Chris Lynch and I started the paperwork in the fall of 2013 and this summer were granted the non-profit status by the IRS. Now we're scrambling to set up the organization. We have a board of five - all incredible women: Roxanne Pollard is our secretary, Jennifer Waalkes our treasurer, and Trudi Bocott our public relations director.

My family does get some of my time, probably not as much as they should. Scott's health remains an issue, but his recording studio is making progress and should be back in operation soon thanks to his son, Steve, and his engineer, Jimmy. Courtney and Ron have experienced ups and downs with Ron's health again this year, but they always have time for Ben, who turned four years old in September. How did that happen! Kendall and her family are off on a new adventure, selling their home and moving to a new community, Tehaleh. Micah will be four years old soon and Gracie, sweet Gracie is a rambunctious 18 month old.

And so it goes... If my blog suffers, my life certainly hasn't. I continue to be blessed beyond words. www.BonnieKingPhotography.com