The farmer bought me a camera. It’s a big deal for us because the farmer agreed to date me only if his photo would never show up on my blog. It means a lot to me that he’s buying me a camera which, invariably, will mean more photos of him on the blog.

But also, owning a camera allows me to make photos a big part of my blog; until now, I have only published photos here that other people took. I am excited to see where this leads, but first, I am excited to get better at taking photos and creatively organizing them into photo books. 

My first picture was the morning view from my favorite window in the house.

The farmer’s first picture with the camera was of flowers that Lisa Carnochan sent me. Her blog, Amid Privilege, explores the costs and benefits of living in WASP culture , and the flowers are such a good representation of Lisa’s brand.

Everyone who sees the flowers looks at the farmer and says, “Oh, they’re beautiful, did you get them for Penelope for her birthday?” And he says, “No.”

He can’t believe anyone would buy so many flowers at once when they’re just going to die.

The morning the farmer gave me the camera, I took photos nonstop.

When I put the camera down to make lunch, my son took pictures of himself.

Then I took a picture of him.

After that, he said, about fifty times, “Take a picture of me doing this… take a picture of me now!” We do not have a video camera and we have never really used a camera regularly so my kids do not have that Generation Z sense that they are stars being photographed nonstop. As soon as my son got a whiff of that though, I said, “I don’t want to take your picture. Stop asking.” (So, if you’re wondering what it’s like to have a parent with Asperger’s, I think you just got your answer.)

The windchill that day was negative-thirty. But the farmer says you do farm chores no matter what.

So the kids ran out to pick up the eggs (the yolks were frozen) and make sure the ducks had warm enough water because ducks need to dunk their heads once a day, so you can’t allow the water to freeze.

Then everyone came in for a cozy dinner, at 5pm. And bedtime at 7:30. No kidding. This is life on the farm.