Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Aquifer of kindness, aquifer of guilt

I've been meaning to post the delightful shells, rocks, and bits of sea glass we collected on the beach during Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. What a great thing to be able to spend a January holiday promenading across the sand and discovering treasures instead of shivering my teeth out somewhere cold and dark. Who am I kidding, though--I actually love places that are cold and dark, but I guess I'm just trying to be optimistic and take advantage of coastal splendors while I can.

As I was getting my camera to take a picture of these treasures, I thought to myself: "my camera is kind of old. I'd sure love to get a new one." I then promptly dropped the camera on the floor. The telescoping lens is cracked and crooked (I punched it back into shape) and the front part of it fell out (I stuck that back in place too). I guess I learned my lesson, not to wish my old camera ill will until I actually have a new one. After breaking my camera, I sort of fixed it, and I think it'll limp along for a couple more months, after which time I'll probably invest in a new one. It's been so trusty and reliable, so I feel bad about the whole thing.


Em said...

Yeah, I rarely voice my camera wishes. But for me it's more a matter that I'm afraid of sounding like a brat. My mother would have promptly pointed out to me all the poor kids in the world who don't have ANY camera. Or how she didn't have a camera of her own until she was ## old.

Can never quite get her voice out of my head. Even when it's saying ridiculous things entirely out of context.

Holly said...

o camera, poor camera....