Good thing they’re tiny.


We have roughly 5000 of these toy cars at our house. Most have been passed down from relatives or received as gifts. I can’t actually remember a single time that I bought one on purpose. Generally they sit, ignored, in the closets of the small people living in my home.

Every now and then I’ll be looking for something in these closets, swearing under my breath because it looks like a miniature but mighty tornado swept through inside. In these situations, there’s usually some point at which I lose my cool and threaten to throw away or give away items because they’re broken, or because no one plays with them, or because they’re utterly useless (e.g., hardened pellets of Play-Doh, random pieces of painted macaroni, the cardboard container for a Happy Meal eaten in 2012).

And then, my small people passionately claim that these items are their favourite, and they promise these items will get played with, and please please DON’T give these items away to another child/throw them in the garbage/flush them down the toilet.

Sometimes I take a hard line. Other times, I fold…which is why you’re looking at a picture of 5000 Dinky cars.


(Inspired by the Weekly Photo Challenge: Tiny)

Round we go.

October 25 2016 (1 of 1).jpg

My “assistants” helped me prepare for today’s photo of a marble run. One of them built the tower and controlled the flow. The other one tried to prevent our cats from photobombing the shot and eating marbles. It was a team effort.

I used to think that any blur in a photo meant it was a bad photo. Aren’t we trying to freeze time, capture a moment? But I’m starting to see that intentional blur (not the kind that results because I accidentally focus on the foliage in the background instead of the subject’s face) can be a creative way to express movement and energy in an image. I’ve seen some beautiful shots created by zooming or panning the camera – techniques I haven’t tried yet. Today I just played around with the shutter speed until the marbles were clearly moving but not blended together into one massive streak.

First the pinwheel, now the marble run – I’m starting to think I may be able to make photographic use of some of the neglected toys that are loitering around the house. In which case, it’ll be practically guaranteed that I’ll have the set-up assistance of a kid or two. And a couple of cats.

Day 7. The spins.


Sweet, sweet daughter.

Thank you for parking your metallic purple dollar-store pinwheel in our front yard.

It has finally exited your closet, where it has been in hibernation for roughly half your life, during which time I’ve periodically tried to sell you on the appeal of this nice, old-fashioned, non-battery-operated-nor-wirelessly-connected toy.

I wasn’t hinting that it should become a garden ornament.

No worries. It’s growing on me.

You picked a perfect spot for it to catch the wind.