What do an ice-cube on top of my wood stove, and my outfit today both have in common?
They’re both sizzlin’! Ow!
**UPDATED** Wait, wait. Here’s me looking sultry. I have to include a picture of me looking sultry.
Dress: just below the knee, purple printed wrap dress was a thrift find.
Purple tights: I have no idea.
Shoes….so those are my ratty slippers with the insoles sliding out the front. To Mass I wore my usual knee-high brown boots. I’m going to put in a link here for Minnetonka in case any family/ friends/ stalkers want to take the hint and ship me some new slippers for Christmas.
Thus, today’s foray into fashion caps off a week of holiday hustle and bustle served with a heaping side of family photos. I agonized for days over how to get all seven of us to match for our annual Thanksgiving family photo. It’s no short task when my daughters keep feeling the need to “express themselves”. Is it too much to ask that one day a year they don’t dress like homeschoolers??? Plus, my parents living room is pink. I am incapable of matching anything in my wardrobe to pink. Compared to all this, getting dressed for Mass today was a piece of pie. (Mmmm, yummy, yummy pumpkin pie with a gluten free crust.)
I see all these great family photos on my arch-nemesis Pinterest; children running through tall grass in designer clothes while two perfectly made up parents embrace and somehow all their shadows spell out their name. We’ve never done the professional family photo shoot because, in my husbands words, “You have a nice camera. You studied photography. Whatever you can take will be fine.”
So between playing stylist and photographer’s assistant (because usually I turn my camera over to someone else to push the button after manhandling everyone into place) family photos can be a tad nerve-wracking. Ultimately I decided we’d do this years photo outside, weather permitting, and I tried to pick everyone else’s clothes around what my daughters wanted to wear. I wound up in a tan sweater turtleneck, green corduroy skirt and brown argyle tights. Accessories included my favorite “Don’t Touch the Buns” apron and a turkey leg.
Before anyone could even think about messing up their clothes, I whisked them outside for a photo. The leaves, the fall decor, the quaint small town buildings; together with everyone looking at the camera it became a great shot. And of course, Tony remains convinced that hiring a photographer is not necessary.
Now we’re home and its full steam ahead as we wrap up our first trimester of school and start thinking about Advent, Christmas and all the
insanity joy that comes with the holidays.
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