10th photo

 I have had a lovely surprise, Julie at  Being Ruby   has tagged me amongst others, to talk about my tenth photo.  Julie has amazing talent as a photographer, all the photos on her blog are hers, and are beautiful works of art. Her text comes close to poetry no matter how mundane the subject - let's just say it :  I can't hope to compete.

The tenth photo stored in my photo file happens to be one that was taken by my daughter of herself and her pony.  This picture tells several tales.  A sad one of how a lovely girl grew too attached to the wrong pony.  A creative one of the importance of expressing yourself artistically, and lastly the tale of how our ponies are an integral part of my children growing up.

I shall start with the last, growing up with ponies.  When I look at this picture I think of the pleasure my girls have sharing emotions with their ponies.  As small children might whisper their secrets into the ears of the softest teddy bear, so my daughters have told things to their ponies that no one else has ever heard.  Constant companions in good times and bad.

This daughter discovered photography a couple of years ago.  Artistic talent is not given space to grow in the French school system,  if you  want your children to appreciate the joy and importance of artistic expression it has to be encouraged at home.  My girl loves to take photos, alone, with friends, small exhibitions, alot of fun. She is a great communicator and I am curious to see how she'll use these talents in her future life.

Finally a tale of disappointment.  This pony's name is Oliver.  He is strong and handsome and was chosen for his potential to jump high, but we hadn't realised how arrogant and disrespectful he would become.  After almost two years of persevering we had to admit that we couldn't handle him, that he was dangerous even.  He had to be sold, but for us all it felt like a failure.  We thought we had failed our daughter, she felt she had failed her pony and it left us sad for a long time.  This is part of learning, and coping with whatever life throws at you.  You just have to emerge stronger and grow together.

I would like to tag the following blogging friends to share their own tenth photo:

Angie at Angie Muresan

Debra at 5th state

Millie at the Laurel Hedge

Trish at Trouvais
Greet at Belgian Pearls

and  Tish at A Femme d'un Certain Age.

I wish you all an excellent and sunny week!

La chambre de mademoiselle

There comes a time when a little girl needs to make her mother understand that she's growing fast.  She knows that her mother really knows.  That she's already noticed the jeans getting shorter, and the telephone bills getting longer.  But she needs to be sure that the MESSAGE is getting through.  She decides that she no longer needs a little girl's bedroom, she needs a big girl's room.  A canvas upon which she can project her own image as that of a beautiful glamorous soon-to-be young woman!!

The first thing to be expulsed from the little girl's room, is the dolls' house.  If ever there were a symbol of childhood this is it.  The mother had made it herself, and furnished it with love and attention.  And it was played with alot but that era is now past.

So the dolls' house is evicted on to the landing,  but still the mother doesn't look like she's going into re-decorating mode.

Perhaps a little gentle stimulation... decorating magazines are left lying around, their pages strangely fallen open at pictures of beautiful sophisticated and feminine bedrooms.   Colour cards from the paint shop are regrouped in suitable complimentary tones.  Even the mother's girlfriends are made unwitting accomplices and innocently remark how exciting the bedroom project sounds, apparently not noticing the mother's surprise.

Finally the mother decides that she can play smart too.  Mind you, it's not that she doesn't like re-decorating, she loves it.  But sometimes mothers have to simultaneously play the role of she who pleases and she who disciplines.  And so it is that a deal is struck, "Here's the deal" exclaims the mother triumphant, " you improve your school work, I improve your room."  Strangely she doesn't sense her daughter's air of triumph.

You really would think that after almost 20 years as a mother, she would realise when she's been outwitted.  But no, foolishly she prefers to believe in the obedience and good intentions of a teenage daughter, and in her own cleverness.  And so she goes to bed happy in the sure knowledge that she has single-handedly found a way of motivating her beloved daughter to try a little harder at school.

To be followed...







photo.  Homes and Gardens