I spent a day there with my brother Gary who works as a technology consultant for the plantation.

The full image is here.

My sister Tammy’s home was without power for several days. On her return this morning, she found the refrigerator/freezer had leaked, ruining her oak kitchen floor.  It is minimal damage, though power may not return for another “four to fourteen days”.

My mother’s house in Slidell sustained damage from a tree limb which fell through her roof.  The heavy rains soaked the ceiling, which then collapsed in the living room.  Again, minimal damage there.  The rest of the house is fine.   We’re making contacts to get the limb removed and the roof covered, as rains are expected to continue for several days.  

If Hurricane Ike approaches the Gulf of Mexico, I’ll be soliciting your prayers once more.  Meanwhile, we hope and pray there are minimal losses from Hanna headed toward the East coast.

When I was young, my aunt took family pictures with her special camera. Polaroid cameras provided an instant picture. Pop a flashbulb on top, look through the little viewfinder, and push the button. No focusing, no finishing the roll, no waiting for developing at the drug store. She snapped the picture and we watched the results spit out as the camera made a winding, grinding noise. My aunt would then grab the output so we kids wouldn’t spoil the picture with fingerprints. We gathered around her as she waved the stiff paper in the air, waiting for it to finish it’s own self-developing. Within a minute, we had a classic family photo.

At first, they were black and white, of course. With the black and white ones, she had to roll a waxy stick over the photo to protect it. Color came a few years later, though the colors on the photos were rather dull with a yellow cast. Polaroid improved the product over the years, and for the past decade the output was quite good. Not fast, but good. The advent of inexpensive digital cameras meant that pictures were even cheaper and faster, leaving the “instant” Polaroid photos in the dust.

On Flickr and other photo sites, Polaroid still has a certain edgy, modern following. But now the Polaroid company has announced that they will discontinue making instant film for the cameras they quit making last year.

The next generation may never know the joy of watching one’s favorite aunt take an instant photo that will embarrass you forever.

My son Rob and I had an adventurous week. We boarded a plane Monday for Las Vegas, our first trip there. I’d always had a curiosity about the city, having seen photos and heard stories of “the strip”…meaning, Las Vegas Boulevard where a majority of the big name hotels and casinos are located. I’m not a gambler, and I’m not much of a night-life person, so Vegas might seem an odd choice. It was Rob’s choice, mainly, and my curiosity to see the sights that caused us to spend a few vacation days there.

The coming of Christmas can be stressful for a pastor with increased services and activities in December. In fact, I had to be disciplined and work ahead in planning so I could leave town without a lot of worry or guilt. And it worked. We boarded the plane at Hopkins and I felt the stress lift when the jet’s tires did. We arrived in Nevada four hours later, took a shuttle to the Paris Hotel and unpacked. The Paris is smack in the middle of the strip, so it was easy to get around and see the other hotels and casinos. And casinos. And casinos. Just as I’d heard, they’re everywhere. They’re smoky (yuck!), noisy, fairly dark and…full. At least at night.

Rob and I both brought some spending money for gambling. I played a few slot machines, video poker and video blackjack. I’m no card-sharp anyway, but these games I could figure out. I’d lose a little, win a little, lose a little more. I know these “games” are set in the casinos favor, and I have a low tolerance for giving my money away in this manner. All told, I lost $26 over two days and was done. Yes, $26, which means I went $1 over my self-imposed limit. Given that there was a poker tournament going on with a pot of a million dollars plus, I suppose I shouldn’t whine about my loss.

We sought out some good food, but finding lunch for less than $20 per person takes some doing. We splurged on a buffet, had excellent crepes at our French hotel, rode the monorail, and attended two shows in the evenings. We walked our feet off, took lots of photos and enjoyed watching the sunrise over the mountains from our 25th floor hotel room. One night, while waiting for a show to begin, we spotted a woman who was the spitting image of my daughter, Katie–but older and taller–and surreptitiously took her picture so we could show Katie when we got home.

The hotels in Vegas are marvels of engineering and beauty, at least the newer, grander ones. You can ride to the top of the Eiffel Tower (fake), walk the streets of Manhattan (fake), ride a gondola in Venice (fake). I’ve been fortunate to have traveled to all those real places, and frankly, I prefer the grittiness of reality in this case. But there is something Disney-like in the sparkling lights, the clean streets, the many shows, the fountains and flowers, and the “over the top” way the hotels and casinos compete for your money.

After day two, we were done. Finished. Almost bored. We looked into booking a plane ride over the Grand Canyon, but the price was high and the weather was iffy, so we skipped it. I know we could have rented a car and driven to Hoover Dam, but neither of us had much interest. Yes, we could have taken a longer car trip to see the Grand Canyon. But we chose to relax, sleep in, walk, and enjoy each other’s company. And in the end it was fine. It was a good trip. We can say we’ve been there, done that. Got the t-shirt.

Sometimes, you’ve got to leave town to appreciate what you have back home. Maybe that’s what vacation is all about.

[more Vegas photos on my Flickr site]

The tree is up, lit, and decorated. If I sound proud, it’s because it took some agonizing work. We have an artificial Christmas tree at home because family members have serious allergies that flare up near a “live” tree. The quasi-environmentalist in me is wincing at the fact that this is the fake’s final days. Unfortunately, it will be headed to the landfill after the first week of the new year.

It’s large, it’s bulky, it’s heavy. Too heavy, in fact, for one person to haul it from it’s eleven-month resting place in the basement. I’m dependent on having help to get it to the living room, usually just after Thanksgiving, and back to the dark netherlands after Epiphany. It’s a tree that I’ve come to love…it is thick with branches (both short- and long-needle), and it is pre-lit. I’ve always hated the task of stringing lights on the Christmas tree, so this one has been a God-send. It’s been our tree since 2001.

Why is it going to the dump? Last year one of the larger branches broke off. So what?! I just turned the offending section toward the wall, and no one was the wiser. But this year, on putting the tree together in its three cumbersome sections and plugging it in, I discovered that a whole series of lights is out too. I started replacing bulbs, but can’t find the culprit. And another branch, this time a small one, fell off. I simply shoved it between other branches, and, so far, it’s holding. So what?! The dark, holey sections are aligned and facing the wall. Visitors are now required to stand no closer than 10 feet from the tree. I should erect a barrier, or borrow a traffic cone or something.

From the picture above, taken today, it looks fine, right? I took the picture about 10 feet away. I used some fancy filters on my camera to give it a little bit of a glamour-shot look, like they do with aging actors in magazines to hide their flaws. I’m happy the tree is able to enjoy one more Christmas, brightly lit, judiciously decorated to hide the ravages of the aging process. It shines for one final season.

He went to the hospital on Monday after losing feeling on his left side and a strangeness to his speech. Mom was initially worried that it might be a light stroke, since the symptoms seemed to match up. But several days of testing turned up a growth in my Dad’s brain and further involvement of the lung and liver. Cancer is scary, but my Dad is a man of faith and determination and is ready to fight. We should have full test results by Tuesday, and the doctors will be putting together a treatment game plan early in the week. They’re talking about using the big tools from the oncologist’s toolbox, both radiation and chemotherapy. Dad’s feeling good and is at home right now. I’ll be most grateful for your prayers for papa Chuck and mama Rose.

BBC has posted a self-test to determine if you can tell a fake smile from a real one. Some people pride themselves on being able to read others. I got 16 out of 20 correct, but I guessed on a few. Try it yourself here.

The happy (and real) smiler above? My daughter Katie.

[via The Daily Dish]