Being of Libran affiliation and persuasion and such I so grooved on the balanced dichotomy of yesterday. Largely the day was spent doing product shots of bottles of Patron tequila, rushing to rock-memories-of-yore-infused Clark Gym on Middling City U's urban campus to document intramural DODGEBALL, and then back to studio for more shiney bottle shooting.
Let us just say that upon leaving the sportier portion of my day my shins really smarted. I took three or four good wollops with the ball. Let us also say that that sport is probably not on my list of favoured things to shoot. A few weeks back I was sent to shoot a rollicking night of activities planned for MCU students, pre-mid-terms. I wended my way into the divided Triple Gym and made some photos of peaceniks shooting shuttlecocks about as on the other side of the heavy vinyl ersatz wall came a hurling body and screams. I wended over there and thought, in the interest of my favoured lens, I would move along. It was a mad, dodgeball free-for-all.
One guy last night got his face kicked, I'm not sure if that happened when he was down or not. There was a sound you could hear through the screams, kind of like when Jim Reddon did a sort of jitterbug maneuver to the best man at Leah and Todd's wedding reception at the Middling City Hysterical Society and garnered him one fractured skull after contact with the very impassive marble flooring.
The best team spirit witnessed at the dodgeball fete was that emanating from Team Jager, with their team name emblazoned on ultra-homemade t's, the team name scribbled in Sharpie.
Eight weeks until gardening season.
To date Yours Truly has spent approximately sixty dollars on perennial seeds, a few annuals, tossed in, as well as $100 in summer bulbs - hostas, gladioli, astilbe, and oso much more that suddenly I am filled with that wondrous and sunny feeling of sticking my hands in the earth, sprinkling the water, watching, watching every day until *ka-poof,* magic ensues. Kind of like the magic of the darkroom, only brighter.
Off to dealine hell once again after this pleasant blogly pitstop.

Procrastinational Love.