"oh my god, I'm SO exCITed!!!" :D

When I first began to think about transitioning into weddings, I read a lot of wedding photographers' blogs. I did a lot of eye-rolling. Really? You think all your brides are beautiful? You're "so excited!?!" And you "love, love, LOVE" everything? How phony. How saccharine. How...eww.

So I started shooting weddings. And I jumped on the blog-bandwagon. And something horrifying happened. I sometimes wonder now if my readers think I use a template for each of my blog posts. 'Coz I start a lot of comments with "I just love..." and I started using words like "thrilled, amazing, so-much-FUN" and even the dreaded "so excited!" I find myself saying those words a lot. Be still my little black cynical heart ~ I've turned into a girl.

Of course it helps that my clients are awesome. It becomes difficult to find new words (and I'm too lazy to consult a thesaurus.) So many of their families are equally as warm, fun, and just incredible to share the day with and there isn't enough room within a simple blog post to go into all the little things that make them "fantastic" in their different ways. Or all the individual nuances of a couple that makes them "so amazing together." It can be truly overwhelming and other times so simple that no flurry of words would ever be needed.

So I just have to come to terms with the fact that I'm "so excited" about every wedding, I've always have a "wonderful" time, and all my brides have been so beautiful it moves me to tears just to look at them while editing. And so yes, when you see me write these sentiments over and over, I mean it each time. I suppose I really do love, love, love it all.

Goodnight, Capt'n Thwack; your ship is sailing.

The last few days have been very sad for us. Our little old man, Whisper, finally decided to cash his check. We referred to him as the Timex cat, since during his 18 long years, he defied the three death sentences he'd been handed by several vets. Even 15 months ago, when we were told he was dying, he once again flipped up his middle claw and said he'd go when he was damn good and ready. Tuesday morning, we rushed him to the vet's and we were told in no uncertain terms that this time, there was really no decision to be made. We didn't want him to suffer so we made arrangements.

Oddly enough, Sarah came over on Monday night to take "family" photos of the three of us. It still breaks our hearts that we never got a photo of our little family, Einschka included, as we typically were: us in the middle, Whisper on Wolf's left, Einschka to my right, on the couch, watching Family Guy (or something equally as stoopid.) She passed away last year on Halloween night with her little head in my hand. It was at that time we were told Whisper was on his way out, too. He thrilled us by making it through the holidays, New Year's Eve, and while he was at it, why not Valentine's Day, the whole summer and this Halloween, too?! Defiant as ever, he denied my invitation to the party I was planning for his 20th birthday.

Here's a great shot Sarah got on Monday night. This is how we often saw him around the house.

I took a ton of photos of him yesterday while we waited for the vet to come over. We could tell he felt awful, but he really loves to have his picture taken and posed quite often.


Years ago, Wolfgang told me that if I "died tomorrow, that cat would have no reason to live." He said he's never seen a cat love it's momma like Whisper loved me. While that may be true, he did have one other thing to live for: treats. He loved his treats and spent half the day screaming for them. (He's been deaf for a year and he's half Siamese...so it's literally screaming.) He'd been on a very strict diet, but the vet said he could have as many of his treats as he wanted. He was determined to eat every last one in his jar before checking out. (He was toothless, so it was super cute.)
He rested most of the day.
He hadn't been outside since he was a tiny kitten, so I bought him a lead and made him a sweater out of an old sweater sleeve so he wouldn't get cold. He really perked up and loved sniffing the air and crunching around in the leaves...and eating a few as well. I love this shot Wolfgang took of him looking up at me. He looked so happy.
Dr. Ken came later in the afternoon and Whisper, aka Señor Peespair (due to his love of being pissed off), aka Capt'n Thwack (due to his tail-thrashing temper-tantrums) went peacefully. He'd saved my life, twice literally, and many times figuratively. Nothing for us will quite be the same without him. He'd lived a very very long life and was much loved by us both. We miss him already.