my wife wanted to do a monthly maternity shoot. i told her i'd give her a discounted rate because she's my wife. she told me she'd stop cooking dinner for me. i asked her where and when she wanted to shoot.
this was the eight month shoot (we had done a five, six, and seven month one previously - see the earlier blog posts if you missed them). when we do the shoots we usually pick a place to shoot, make a saturday out of it and hang out. this time we went down to bristol and ate breakfast/lunch at a little hole in the wall place that thought it was a good idea to charge four times the amount for a pancake than the rest of human civilization. i think they thought they were a food vendor in disney world or something.
of course tara loved it, she thrives on that stuff. we walked up and down the main street after that and took pictures in between going in whatever stores were there. i'm not into antiques, but tara likes to look, so we went in a few places like that. i walk around with my camera backpack on which sticks almost a foot and a half out in the back, so she freaks every time i turn around and almost knock george washington's baby dishware set off the shelf.
we also came across a place selling ice cream and pastries. tara got a cupcake and cookie and i got an apple turnover thing. after we walked across the street to sit on some steps and eat our stuff, i bit into the pastry only to get a squirt of lemon-y flavor and no trace of apple. i went back to the store, feeling a tiny bit strange returning a bitten pastry, but i felt like it was the good samaritan thing to do to alert the store owner that he was unknowingly and fraudulently selling lemon desserts under the sweet guise of apple.
they were cool about it and gave me an apple replacement. then he was a bit perplexed, because he wasn't sure which ones in his display were lemon and which were apple now. i kind of felt bad. i would have ate them all for him but he didn't ask.
there won't be a nine month shoot. well, there will, but it won't be of tara's belly, it'll be of raph. he's gonna be here any day now. pretty crazy.
Labels: maternity, raph, shoot