Today, Brian decided to try and clean his sensor on his camera. He went to the local camera store and bought a $30 kit that is supposed to help clean dust off of his sensor. Keep in mind that his Canon 5D is a $1500 minimum camera, and that the sensor is 90% of the cost. He went in to clean it and somehow, it was dirtier after he cleaned it than before. So, he tried to clean it again, and still, there was that same spot on the camera.
Most places recommend that you get the sensor professionally cleaned considering how expensive the sensor is. However, to have both of his cameras cleaned, it would cost about $130 not including the gas to drive an hour in traffic to the only camera store around that does it. He spent the next 30 minutes yelling and screaming and throwing things because he had just ruined his camera, and said that he was going to just sell all of his equipment and just quit the business and be done with it all.
This, of course, was all for naught, as I asked if I could take a look at it. He showed me where the dust or "scratch" was. I opened the camera up and could see the place that he was talking about on his sensor. Carefully I took the swab out, put the cleaning solution on it, and swabbed the sensor, pressing hard enough to clean it but not so hard as to scratch it. Diligently I worked, swishing, swabbing, over and over again, turning it around in the light to see if I had missed a spot. When I was content with it, I handed it over to Brian to have him test it. He went outside, took a picture of the sky (that's how you can see the dust), and then gave me a hug. He just hadn't tried hard enough and was freaking out for nothing.
The moral of the story? Don't ever write something off until you've had someone else take a look at it. You might just be surprised at what they could find!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
Beginnings
So, I know it sounds funny, but I have been looking online for a job that I can have as a stay at home mom. Not that I really need a job. I mean, of course it would be nice to have extra money, and the goal is eventually to let my husband focus solely on his photography business, but at the same time, right now, we're okay financially. I guess, in some ways, it's just a way for me to have an outlet besides wiping bottoms and noses. In fact, I really do enjoy my job as a stay at home mom. It's really quite fulfilling.
For instance, Sommer, my daughter, will be turning two in less than a week. It's beautiful to see her open up and blossom. Her language, as rudimentary as it is, has exploded the last few weeks. Of course, everything sounds the same, but the fact is, I know that she's actively trying to use words, and more than that, she completely understands most of what I'm saying. It's crazy! I'll be having a conversation with my mom, telling her a story of something that happened, and Sommer will chime in with her own two cents, making sure I know that she understands what I'm saying. "Elbow?" she asks, pointing to her owie that she got from climbing on the dishwasher while I was downstairs folding laundry. "Yes, you're right. You got an owie because you were climbing where you shouldn't be, huh? Be careful next time, okay?"
Or take Harmony, for example. She's an amazing 9 month old that has a smile that would melt the coldest heart. She's pulling up and has started using words with purpose, like, "Mama" and "Dada" and "Numnum" and "Hey." It's so awesome! She won't go anywhere without her pink blankie, especially not to sleep. I try to wash it every week or every other week, depending on how dirty it gets. It doesn't always happen, but hey, that's what I try to do.
I feel like so much of my time is spent watching Blues Clues or wiping noses or cleaning up messes that my daughters have made. I feel like in so many ways, much of what my job is, I'm not very good at. I mean, if my job is to stay at home with the girls and clean the house, I must not be doing a good job because the house is always messy. Life just happens when you have two girls that are so close together. Messes happen, and I think way too much about it to get the house cleaned in a timely manner.
I wish in some ways, I was like those moms who seem to have it all together, whose houses are spotless and whose kids always look perfect, who have a wonderfully stocked diaper bag ready for any dilemma that might come their way (although it never does). Instead, I have goldfish scattered across the floor from where Sommer was trying to feed them to Harmony when she was getting fussy from being tired. Sommer peed in her pants today on our first attempt to go out in public without a diaper or at least a pullup on. And, of course, we didn't even bring a diaper bag in, so she walked around Target with a wet bottom. I just pretended not to notice until I put her on my shoulders and realized how gross it was to have pee peed pants on my shoulders.
Anyway, as far as looking for a job is concerned, some of the posts that I have read have talked about being a professional blogger, or getting paid to write. I honestly do love to write and have for many years. When I was a teenager imagining what I was going to do when I grew up, writing was always one of the things in the back of my mind. So was acting, but I could never remember my lines. I am so out of practice, though, hence the reason why I thought I'd start here. No one I know can see this unless they randomly search for my name. So, in many ways, I'm safe in here. I'm safe to perfect my style. I'm safe to make mistakes. I'm safe to imagine and dream. I'm safe to write what I'm feeling today. I'm safe to rant and rave. It'll be fun. We'll see what happens from this. Enjoy!
For instance, Sommer, my daughter, will be turning two in less than a week. It's beautiful to see her open up and blossom. Her language, as rudimentary as it is, has exploded the last few weeks. Of course, everything sounds the same, but the fact is, I know that she's actively trying to use words, and more than that, she completely understands most of what I'm saying. It's crazy! I'll be having a conversation with my mom, telling her a story of something that happened, and Sommer will chime in with her own two cents, making sure I know that she understands what I'm saying. "Elbow?" she asks, pointing to her owie that she got from climbing on the dishwasher while I was downstairs folding laundry. "Yes, you're right. You got an owie because you were climbing where you shouldn't be, huh? Be careful next time, okay?"
Or take Harmony, for example. She's an amazing 9 month old that has a smile that would melt the coldest heart. She's pulling up and has started using words with purpose, like, "Mama" and "Dada" and "Numnum" and "Hey." It's so awesome! She won't go anywhere without her pink blankie, especially not to sleep. I try to wash it every week or every other week, depending on how dirty it gets. It doesn't always happen, but hey, that's what I try to do.
I feel like so much of my time is spent watching Blues Clues or wiping noses or cleaning up messes that my daughters have made. I feel like in so many ways, much of what my job is, I'm not very good at. I mean, if my job is to stay at home with the girls and clean the house, I must not be doing a good job because the house is always messy. Life just happens when you have two girls that are so close together. Messes happen, and I think way too much about it to get the house cleaned in a timely manner.
I wish in some ways, I was like those moms who seem to have it all together, whose houses are spotless and whose kids always look perfect, who have a wonderfully stocked diaper bag ready for any dilemma that might come their way (although it never does). Instead, I have goldfish scattered across the floor from where Sommer was trying to feed them to Harmony when she was getting fussy from being tired. Sommer peed in her pants today on our first attempt to go out in public without a diaper or at least a pullup on. And, of course, we didn't even bring a diaper bag in, so she walked around Target with a wet bottom. I just pretended not to notice until I put her on my shoulders and realized how gross it was to have pee peed pants on my shoulders.
Anyway, as far as looking for a job is concerned, some of the posts that I have read have talked about being a professional blogger, or getting paid to write. I honestly do love to write and have for many years. When I was a teenager imagining what I was going to do when I grew up, writing was always one of the things in the back of my mind. So was acting, but I could never remember my lines. I am so out of practice, though, hence the reason why I thought I'd start here. No one I know can see this unless they randomly search for my name. So, in many ways, I'm safe in here. I'm safe to perfect my style. I'm safe to make mistakes. I'm safe to imagine and dream. I'm safe to write what I'm feeling today. I'm safe to rant and rave. It'll be fun. We'll see what happens from this. Enjoy!
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