Bond 005

I recently had the opportunity to photograph The Bond's before Eric leaves on his mission to Switzerland in April. I've always loved the affection they show in their family. With two boys and a girl, it reminds me of my own family that I grew up with. I can tell that Andrea loves her brothers as much as I love mine.

Peggy has the bluest eyes. They remind me of a 1940's movie star's eyes.

Eric clearly got his mother's blue eyes. Aside from his missionary tag, he'll blend right in in Switzerland. I wish him the best two years. I know his mom won't think so, but time will fly. :-)

Elton John & Billy Joel

It started with a birthday wish. My dad turned 70 this month and in honor of his birthday he took his three kids and my mom to the Elton John & Billy Joel concert this past week. First of all "Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you a lot." AND "Thank you so much for such a fun concert!" Am I a lucky girl or what?!?

I met my parents and brothers in down town. We all took the Light Rail down from our respective ends of town. It almost made me feel like I was in New York again. I highly recommend it.

It was like getting 2 concerts in one. They played for 3 1/2 hours...first together, then Elton alone, then Billy alone and then they finally ended the concert together with "Piano Man".

You can't even imagine the roar of the crowd when these two music legends walked out on stage. It was deafening. They were each incredible on the piano. Each song brought back memories of my growing up years. Billy Joel dedicated the song, "Zanzibar" to one of his heros who happened to be there that night, Mohammed Ali.

I brought my camera, unsure if they would let it in. They checked my bag and told me I couldn't bring in a water bottle...said nothing about my camera. Yeah! I hurried and drank my water and went in before they changed their mind.

Here are some photos from the concert:

As you can see, the concert was sold out.

Our seats were about 2/3 back on stage left side of the Center, about 1/2 way up the bottom section. All of these photos were taken from our seats with my 18-200mm lens and then cropped. I sat there wondering if I could get a little closer. Finally I decided to go for it. I walked with purpose to the first entrance and marched right down the stairs as if I belonged down there. I found myself on the floor very close to the sound boards to the right of the stage. I balanced my elbows on the rail and snapped about 8 quick photos before the security guard told me I couldn't do that. It was worth it. On the way back, 3 more security guards stopped me and asked me which entrance I came in from. They had their eye on me now. This was one of my shots from down front.

Can't wait until my dad turns 75! :-)

Miyuki + Kawana= TLA

We had a dog in our home for a short time while I was growing up. I say "in our home" because it was more of a co-existence rather than a relationship. It didn't work out and my mom had the painful task of taking him to the Humane Society. She didn't know what else to do. She cried all the way home. I must not have been too attached because I don't remember crying at all.  Now I know why my mom cried. She was the one who took care of this little dog and so I can only imagine how attached she got even though he wasn't quite what we had expected. 

Our youngest, Emma, 8, is a complete animal lover. She cried and cried when our little hamster, Henry, died. He "mysteriously" disappeared from his Postmortem Crayola Box Home in the freezer to some undisclosed location in an attempt to give him a proper burial (which translates to: we needed to get him out of the freezer). Emma made him a little headstone and R.I.P. out of mud and put it symbolically in our flower bed. I happened upon it a couple of weeks ago. She was still thinking of him.

A few years ago, out of the blue, I got puppy hungry. I could count on Emma to be on the same page. I investigated different breeds to find the right fit for our family and finally settled on a Shih Tzu. They're small, they don't shed, they don't bark, they're mellow and pretty low maintenance. I found a local breeder who called us when our little dog was old enough to leave home. That was nearly 4 years ago. We named her Annie and she has exceeded our expectations. She loves us and it's humbling to think how little she asks of us and how much she gives  in return. Annie was the beginning of my journey to becoming a dog person. I believe in the power of a pooch. Because of that I was so touched by Miyuki and Kawana.

Miyuki & Kawana

Miyuki is my neighbor and she has been training Kawana, a beautiful Golden Retriever, to be an Assistance Dog through the Power Paws organization. They have been together for 18 months. When I learned a couple of weeks ago that it was time for Kawana to go to his new home and new owner, I could feel how sad Miyuki was to see him go. She had done a good job training him and their bond was strong. Kawana will be placed with a person who's life will be greatly blessed by having him around.He is lovable and smart. He can go to the refrigerator and get a water bottle, he can push the handicap button to open doors among other things. I wanted Miyuki to have more than a snapshot to remember him by, so we did a little photo shoot with the two of them the afternoon of his departure. Here are some of my faves:

I know Miyuki will always remember what it felt like to love Kawana, now she can remember what it looks like.

Held Hostage

I woke up Saturday morning to find that my blog has been sabotaged. Photobucket decided that I was using too much bandwidth and took action by holding my photos hostage until I upgrade to their pro service. I have tried doing this in the cheapest way possible within their guidelines, but my photos have still not been returned to me. They will be back...hopefully sooner rather than later.

In the meantime here's a little something:

While going to bed tonight I spied in the darkened bathroom the familiar shadowy outline of a common enemy. Six and a half years ago I would have maybe screamed and ran out of the room, but now I knew exactly what to do: I grabbed the nearest book, which just happened to be "The Pocket Daring Book for Girls: Things to Do" and used it's spine to kill my enemy, a scorpion creeping along the base of the shower. They're back and so it must be Spring.

This is not the actual scorpion...but a close relative, I am sure. Aren't they creepy?!

Hi Neighbor!

We moved to Mesa 6 1/2 years ago after living in California for 16 years. We lived in the same house on a dead end street for 10 of those 16 years. Our house was situated in the center of the street amid 20 or so houses. I could stand at my front door and look up and down the street at each house and know who lived there and what their names were:  Ken helped me cut wood and shared his tools with me, Sue shared iris bulbs that helped fill out our newly landscaped front yard, Doris always brought over baked goods and shared gardening tips, Clif helped put in our sprinklers and fix things for us, Michele watched my kids at a moment's notice, Reed and Chris let us swim in their pool and hunt for easter eggs in their big yard, Mark and Valerie taped our favorite shows every week because we didn't have cable, Lois taught me how to quilt, Darrel and Janice always welcomed our boys in to play with their son Austin. 

Three of our five children were born while living in that house. I knew my neighbors and they knew me. Our children played together. We took in each other's mail and shared meals together. We slept out in our front yards the night after the big earthquake in '94. We gathered for an impromptu get together every 4th of July in the middle of our street...OUR street...to celebrate together with fireworks and icecream sandwiches. We babysat each other's kids, even in the middle of the night when it would have been more comfortable to stay in one's own bed. We became more than neighbors. We served one another, shared in the happy moments of new babies, weddings ,birthday parties, new cars (when we drove down the street in our new SUV, the kids came running to our house so they could climb all through our new car), we cried when close neighbors moved away and welcomed new neighbors in, we bore one another's burdens in setbacks, in sickness and in grieving the loss of one neighbor's son in a tragic accident. We had such great neighbors that I never thought we could move away, but one day we did. On Moving Day, with car and truck filled to the brim with kids and our stuff, it was our turn to say good-bye. Just as we were pulling away, Ryan, who lived next door raised his hand in a final farewell and said, "Bye Neighbor". It was a loaded sentence because after 10 years on that street, I knew what "neighbor" meant. I will never forget Austin running along side the car as we drove up the street, racing us to the corner. 

When we moved into our new house here in Mesa, it didn't take long before we needed our new neighbors...I borrowed a ladder from the Hyatts who live across the street. The next Sunday at church, I heard a familiar greeting from a new voice as Jacob Hyatt welcomed me with "Hi Neighbor!" The past and the present merge as we started building relationships all over again.

Not too long ago, Jacob's mom, Collette, brought over a freshly baked loaf of bread just to say she'd been thinking of us and that she hoped Brian was feeling better. Thank you, Neighbor. Once again we find ourselves in a good place.

David Archuleta

Part 1:

My brother, Andy, works for Coca-Cola and with that job comes many fun perks, like going to Coke sponsored events, etc. So, recently he sent me a couple of photos of him with 2 of this year's American Idol contestants from the Top 13 post show get together that he got to go to. I thought, "Hey this will be a fun thing to put on my blog...thanks, Bro for helping me spice things up a bit." About 20 minutes later, my brother called me up and told me, "By the way...don't put those on your blog." How could he know?!? I told him, "I can't even live vicariously through you!! You ruin all of my 45 year old fun!" He did not budge. That stubborn gene runs through our whole family's swedish blood.

Part 2:

This past weekend we had our semi-annual Stake Conference at church. We were told Sunday morning that the special speaker for the youth fireside that evening would be David Archuleta. I admit that my first thought wasn't how fun it would be to see David Archuleta, but of my brother, Andy, and my previously lost blog opportunity. Does it surprise anyone to know that a great majority of the audience was girls? It was fun just observe their enthusiasm for his imminent arrival. He finally came in a little after 7 p.m. sandwiched safely between President Robinson and President Wright, our Stake president. He looked like such a little guy. He IS a little guy! He seemed young and a little nervous. He was very cute. He sang 3 hymns, "I am a child of God" (lucky me-one of my favorites), "Be Still My Soul"(one of his favorites, when asked) and he ended with an a cappella rendition of "How Great Thou Art".

In between the songs he answered questions that had been submitted ahead of time. My favorite question/answer had to have been, "What do you look for in an eternal companion?" Little snickers from the audience and then he proceeded to give his own personal philosophy on dating a lot before you can really know what it is you are looking for in an eternal companion. You have to know what's out there. He used the Pizza Analogy: "If you had only ever tasted the little personal sized pizza you can get at 7-Eleven, you might think that that is the BEST pizza in the world and might not venture to look around any more, but if you tried Little Ceasar's or Papa John's, you might find a pizza that you like even more. You might even one day, go to Italy and try a real pizza." It was a very lengthy response and very humorous, but I think the point was, "He's not ready to find an eternal companion now, but when he is he'll probably go to Italy to get a really good one." :-)

Knowing that ALL of those people in the audience wanted their picture taken with David, they set up a reception line of sorts in one of the adjacent rooms and filed people through...quickly. He was a good sport. It took over an hour. I went through with my little group, took my two little friends home and went back to take pictures of everyone else who was still left in line. He was a very nice guy. He seemed like he was still a little shell-shocked by all of the fuss and attention, but very sweet.

I loved how he was introduced; not as a famous person, but as an Eagle Scout, a young man who, roller-blading through his neighborhood, would often stop and help someone in need. He was especially loved by the widows in his ward because he would go over to their house and serenade them. What a refreshing role model.

Here are some of the photos from Sunday...The rest can be found here.

Ben was just in front of us.

Someone grabbed my camera and must have turned on the "gravity" function by mistake based how droopy my eyes look in all of these. Funny thing, though, it only seemed to affect me. Hmm...so strange. Oh, hold on a second...I'm not immune to that anymore, I'm in my 40's!

I promise that I am NOT goosing him. I do not know what happened here...hurry go on to the next one. It's the most normal.

The one below made me laugh. When I saw it, I thought, "Yeah, if I was an 18 year old boy, I would ignore the "MOM" standing next to me, too!" That's o.k., David. I understand. Gabi is pretty cute. :-)

Below is Adam. Somehow it doesn't surprise me that Adam made it look like he was the main guy!

Adam is also an opportunist. Early on, they asked David to stop doing autographs in order to keep the line moving. That didn't deter Adam. He managed to go through the line FOUR times! I guess you can get away with that when you're little. I finally stopped including him in the group photos, cropping him right out of the picture. Sorry little man. He was a little man on a mission, however...an Autograph Mission. Here is Adam making his move...

Way to be persistent, Adam. Mission accomplished: 7 autographs for his friends.

Last but not least...One last shot of David. Thanks for a fun evening and most of all for your beautiful music and good example and thanks for bringing a little excitement to our little corner of world here in Mesa.

Post Script: O.K., little brother, I guess I don't need your American Idol photos, after all.

Happy Anniversary!

Brian and I spent more than half of our courtship writing letters to each other. The mailbox seemed like the perfect photo to celebrate the over 27 years we've known each other. 

It's Friday the 13th and that is a good day at our house. That's the day Brian and I got married 22 years ago right here in Mesa. Here is our story in a nutshell (it's turning out to be a bigger nutshell than I had planned on):

I first saw Brian up at NAU when he walked out on center stage for a dress rehearsal of a play he was in. I was sitting up in a cherry picker adjusting stage lights, so I saw him before he saw me. I thought he was pretty cute. Do you know what I noticed right off the bat? His arm hairs. I thought they were so manly. I was only 18, so it was easy for me to be impressed with such things...not to take away anything from the hair on Brian's arms.

 We dated the rest of the school year and then spent the summer apart, me in Phoenix and him in Mesa.  That summer Brian was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. A few months later I joined the church, too.(That is a whole other story) One year later, Brian left on a 2 year mission for the Church to Washington D.C. In the meantime I went to Germany and worked as an Au-Pair for 1 year to have my own adventure.

  This is when our letter writing began. The year I spent in Germany helped solidify the desire that I began to have to serve a mission, so after Brian had been out for about 18 months, I left on a mission as well. I served in Minnesota for 18 months. When you finish your mission, you have a final interview with your Mission President. One thing that stands out from my interview with President Bennett, was a promise he made to me. He told me that I would know within two weeks if Brian was the ONE. That was, after all a long time to be apart. After 37 months of writing regularly we were finally reunited on a warm (wait...I mean blazing hot!) AZ summer day in August of 1986 right outside my house in North Phoenix. That first embrace was magical. My mission president was right...four days later we were engaged. Six months later we were married in the Arizona Temple on March 13, 1987. I should mention that our letter writing didn't stop, but continued after our engagement as Brian left for graduate school in CA and I lived with his parents while working for America West Airlines. We saw each other over Christmas and maybe  twice more during the 6 1/2 months we were engaged. I'm so grateful for all of those years of writing letters...real, actual letters, not emails, not texts, not phone calls,  but a box full of long, anticipated letters. 

Can't wait to go through them someday.

The Getaway

Part 1: The Getaway

So, where can you go to get away from it all, leave the outside world behind, focus on each other and nothing else, have a little alone time? If you said Banner Baywood Hospital, "You're right!"

Brian and I have needed a getaway for a while and we finally got it last Friday night. It started with Brian feeling some unusual pressure on his chest that he hadn't felt before and he started to feel clammy and faint. He wasn't sure what it was, but felt concerned enough that he thought we might need to go to the emergency. I became a little concerned myself when he finally said, "I think you should call 911." Where was the phone? Does he want a glass of water? The paramedics came. Our good neighbor, Brent came over and gave Brian a priesthood blessing before he was taken away. I know the blessing helped Brian, but it also calmed me. Thank you. I felt at peace and knew that everything was going to be o.k. I got the kids situated and met Brian at the hospital.

We had our own little cubicle sectioned off from our neighbors by curtains, so we could hear more than we wanted to: a man who was not in his right mind and absolutely did not want to be restrained, a woman who heard voices...drama. Brian and I would be having a conversation, but when the conversations around us became more interesting, we both quieted and listened. I know. We probably shouldn't have, but when the doctor asks the lady next to us what the voices were telling her, wouldn't you want to hear what she said??

SO...it was obvious that we were going to be there for a little while and as I looked around our little space and assessed the situation, there was a plastic chair with a low back, a night stand of sorts, and brian's gurney style bed. It was more like half of a bed, since it was pretty narrow. We hung out waiting for some test results and the cardiologist. I finished reading/scanning a photography book by Allison Tyler Jones, looked through other stuff in my bag, then I was pretty tired. I looked at Brian's bed the way a hawk eye's it's prey before the attack. I finally told him, "Scoot over." He laughed and said, "What?!" I said, "Scoot over, I'm really tired! There's enough room for me r-i-g-h-t t-h-e-r-e." I pointed to the bottom half of the 1/2-Bed. I think by now he knew that I was not joking, so he made room for me. My feet were cold, and my legs were hanging halfway off the bed, but it was better than the hard plastic chair. I also asked the nurse for my very own pillow AND found a little blanket. We settled in. It was cozy. I didn't mind. I like cozy. Thank goodness for the bars on the side of the bed, otherwise this sleeping arrangement would not have worked. I had to position my backside just ride between the bars. We laughed and giggled. I don't know if we laughed because it was funny or because we were so tired by now that we were punchy...maybe both. Then came the CAT scan to check for clots in his heart (thankfully, there were none), but the nurse was so nice to let me stay on the bed for the ride to the CAT scan room. I think she could probably see that I was wedged in so tight that having me get off was more trouble than it was worth. During this short ride down the hospital corridors I had a flashback to other such trips for me, except they weren't to have a CAT scan, but to have my babies. Five C-sections, five beautiful,soft, healthy babies, two great doctors...so I have very fond memories and associations with hospitals. This was turning out to be a pretty good date...all of these warm feelings came flooding back: heated blankets(loved those!), gurney trips down the hallway, hospital chatter over the intercom through the night, nurses chatting at the nurses station,doors opening and closing, curtains being pulled back, my hospital cocktail in a styrofoam cup (o.j. mixed with cranberry juice-on crushed ice-the best.) and best of all, visits from Brian at night that consisted mostly of him just sitting next to me holding the newest little addition to our family, while I dozed in and out of sleep until our little muffin needed to be fed. Our little piece of heaven right there in that hospital room.

Back to the present: One of Brian's nurses was from Taiwan and sounded so much like Dr. Tzeng and Chen, MY wonderful doctors. Now, I could entertain these thoughts because Brian was not in pain and was actually feeling pretty good by this time, so I was not worried. All good things must come to an end and our "date" ended with "breakfast" in the a.m.: powdered scrambled eggs, a dry little blueberry pancake rolled up, some grapes, cream of wheat made with water instead of milk and a carton of milk. Oh, well, it WAS hospital food, after all. I know it's weird, but it was a pleasant night. I kissed my date good-bye. He said he would call me. It is not too often that you can forget about the world around you and do nothing and have it be ok that you're doing nothing.

Brian ended up staying the rest of the weekend (too long!)...waiting and waiting and waiting (could have come home on Saturday!)...and finally came home on Sunday evening. Announcement: His heart has a clean bill of health. Thank you to everyone for your love and concern and prayers. We are blessed to once again be surrounded by so many caring people. Everything is good with the Nissens. :-)

Part 2: The Homecoming

An ambulance can be a scary thing for anyone, but particulary for an 8 year old little girl, when the ambulance is taking her dad away. Emma went through her own experience this weekend being home, while dad was in the hospital, but in the end she said a prayer and felt like everything would be o.k. I am so grateful that she was able to have that experience with prayer, because that will serve her well over the years as trials and challenges come her way. She also spent some time making little cards and writing notes for Brian's eventual return home. Here is what he came home to:

In case you can't quite make it out:

"Adam says I'm making a big deal about this and I mite be, but I mean we don't want to lose you apparently. And we love you so much that we would be heartbroken. And I mean 'heart' So you better come back alive. And I mean alive not dead. You get the picture right.

Love, Nissens"

Then she signed all of our names.

This is Emma. I love her heart!

All is well.