tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46993382782004601672024-03-12T21:03:59.275-07:00One Thousand FacesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.comBlogger153125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-62985002865978766512013-09-01T17:32:00.005-07:002013-09-01T17:33:46.025-07:00148<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEMS6cuNP0OCQ2xEu9WvdJ51GM3RcQ5yq1OmvELWl-ABZD0SdlOood_0fMbUUS5GpgTsoZhpCns9cA5ulNwtAigzvCDZtfMDVTfj8jfv84CDNaD3Ea4JIZ0Hj1U3rxOwt46jZeAgvnjM/s1600/Joshua.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqEMS6cuNP0OCQ2xEu9WvdJ51GM3RcQ5yq1OmvELWl-ABZD0SdlOood_0fMbUUS5GpgTsoZhpCns9cA5ulNwtAigzvCDZtfMDVTfj8jfv84CDNaD3Ea4JIZ0Hj1U3rxOwt46jZeAgvnjM/s640/Joshua.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
Joshua is the brother of Ignatious <a href="http://projectonethousandfaces.blogspot.com/2013/08/147.html">#147</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-38856045355637761072013-08-28T15:30:00.000-07:002013-09-01T17:13:27.198-07:00147<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOwI7cdfb-wedmoOwIypcFFAd2n0Q2JV65Kn8NdkEtnAqUtElpyQEqFYBoqHTWiMon4ISP8_gcUe1EjcVZznWwqoYcsuKbO6Xd1Z9oPY1e2iNtZO9enhhdwGCpzZkBoMPWLofJBJoZh0/s1600/ignatious.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVOwI7cdfb-wedmoOwIypcFFAd2n0Q2JV65Kn8NdkEtnAqUtElpyQEqFYBoqHTWiMon4ISP8_gcUe1EjcVZznWwqoYcsuKbO6Xd1Z9oPY1e2iNtZO9enhhdwGCpzZkBoMPWLofJBJoZh0/s640/ignatious.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
I met Ignatious last year at my uncle's home in Kingstown, St Vincent.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-30039454322428649622012-11-03T12:17:00.003-07:002012-11-03T12:18:04.398-07:00146<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8-mHfQL3rpSSXQNkuuVUCcHqdZ0JdDWsrdE2YatiAUcB0FlQ8q5zRs3fKEuc5Km8wOGo8pEVmxLXEil5LLRWxvaSKXG4xxxU9qOAvNVIHhtUv7NGrXdimX0pC8C7039W6N9OKPfFsbQ/s1600/tante+Janeedited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC8-mHfQL3rpSSXQNkuuVUCcHqdZ0JdDWsrdE2YatiAUcB0FlQ8q5zRs3fKEuc5Km8wOGo8pEVmxLXEil5LLRWxvaSKXG4xxxU9qOAvNVIHhtUv7NGrXdimX0pC8C7039W6N9OKPfFsbQ/s640/tante+Janeedited.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tante Jane also called Nen Jane is 91 years old. She is the wife of my grandmother's youngest brother. Tante Jane made mention of my strong resemblance to my aunties but she seemed to think that I favoured my Aunty Zita the most. After pronouncing on this Tante Jane turns to my husband and says, "You know you are a lucky man. You married a beautiful woman." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Can I tell you we love Tante Jane ;-)</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-77546468742800876112012-11-03T11:42:00.002-07:002012-11-03T11:42:58.226-07:00145<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHYf0r4hI3qa4sz5CTXmmmfWCpjstIvBkrXk2HQqBcr408kTXCvc4q1tBA7MjKHOu60hvMJ2hhfbTwxlNipRT-rYvxyO1zS-NJvYoi8RgyASfCj2iOsy2rzILjCjQLaRVyvrqxgRMJwI0/s1600/verolpicmonedited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHYf0r4hI3qa4sz5CTXmmmfWCpjstIvBkrXk2HQqBcr408kTXCvc4q1tBA7MjKHOu60hvMJ2hhfbTwxlNipRT-rYvxyO1zS-NJvYoi8RgyASfCj2iOsy2rzILjCjQLaRVyvrqxgRMJwI0/s640/verolpicmonedited.jpg" width="460" /></a></div>
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The very day I arrived in <a href="http://breakfastlunchdinnerandpunch.blogspot.com/2012/08/lazy-days-and-corned-fish.html">Canouan</a>, I noticed this guy spearfishing near the rocks at the bottom of my Uncle's house. Later on the beach he approached me.</div>
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"Hey <a href="http://projectonethousandfaces.blogspot.com/search/label/mariella">Mariella</a>!" </div>
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Mariella is my Aunt. I shook my head and told him sorry,wrong person. </div>
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"Ann?" he asked. </div>
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Ann is another of my aunts. I shook my head, no.</div>
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However my features identify me as de Roché, so he pressed on, calling the name of yet another of my aunts. </div>
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"Alice?"</div>
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Laughing, I told him that those were all my father's sisters. </div>
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Quite unsurprisingly he tells me that he was Laurel's son and we determine that his grandmother and my grandmother were sisters. When your <a href="http://projectonethousandfaces.blogspot.com/search?q=leo">dad</a> is from a tiny island, population 500 (in those days) you literally run into family everywhere you go. Just in case you are wondering, the population is now 1,200</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-83609342396439094342012-11-03T11:40:00.002-07:002012-11-03T11:40:58.879-07:00144<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWj8TM10X7SaSbinvScZweU6ZAsopn-Q8HTMYOF-ZxwmhHfmfmAOLN_gg85dkWeAcumGIUs-vK1IxJhw6j4VKsQ5rFzwGfFgbuicic27v3w92Q112WNVYcnZP3_ON_xoh1MjGKw40O4E/s1600/Reeceedited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmWj8TM10X7SaSbinvScZweU6ZAsopn-Q8HTMYOF-ZxwmhHfmfmAOLN_gg85dkWeAcumGIUs-vK1IxJhw6j4VKsQ5rFzwGfFgbuicic27v3w92Q112WNVYcnZP3_ON_xoh1MjGKw40O4E/s640/Reeceedited.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Handsome 9 year old Reece is the son of my cousin Phil. He and <a href="http://projectonethousandfaces.blogspot.com/search/label/Sa%C3%ABl">my son</a> met up for exactly one day during the vacation and played together all day like they had known each other from birth. Love my <a href="http://breakfastlunchdinnerandpunch.blogspot.com/2012/08/lazy-days-and-corned-fish.html">Canouan</a> family. </div>
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Wow! I know, it seems like I just dropped the ball on this project haven't I? Explanations and apologies are over on my other blog if you care to read about it <a href="http://breakfastlunchdinnerandpunch.blogspot.com/2012/07/dusting-cobwebs-off-my-blog.html">here</a>.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-17424536582515710882012-10-29T12:21:00.000-07:002012-10-29T12:21:24.542-07:00143 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5677870871/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_5171 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_5171" height="429" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5148/5677870871_69b1edd722_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Tracey works with my husband. We'd never met but she was able identify me because she recognized my son who she'd seen with my husband at another birthday party. We had a lovely chat and bemoaned the fact that our children's heavy birthday party social calender left us with precious little time for any life of our own. I can't speak for Tracey but I can tell you that I'm a little birthday party worn out. It's gotten to the point where my husband and I draw straws to determine who takes the kids.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-68467280831424919732011-05-08T16:18:00.000-07:002011-05-09T06:56:06.454-07:00142<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5523393094/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="139 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="139" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5300/5523393094_ff3f7e766f_b.jpg" width="443" /></a></b></div><b></b><br />
<b><i>A wife who loses a husband is called a widow. A husband who loses a wife is called a widower. A child who loses his parents is called an orphan. But...there is no word for a parent who loses a child, that's how awful the loss is - Neugeboren 1976</i></b><br />
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Today is Mother's Day and I find my thoughts turning toward a mother that I do not know but whose pain and grief are the stuff of my nightmares. If you have children you know what I mean. Those late at night moments when you lie awake in a cold sweat worrying about real and imagined horrors that might befall your children and against which you are powerless to protect them.<br />
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Lucas' dad is brother to Jonathan <a href="http://projectonethousandfaces.blogspot.com/search/label/johnny">#126</a>. I took this picture of Lucas last year. It's just an ordinary image that does little to convey his cherub, gentle, spirit. Just a boy tired from a day playing in the sun, drinking his juice with his sister (not in the shot) but nearby. I wanted to take a few more photos but we didn't know each other well enough for him to open up to me. Still he was sweet and polite and looked directly at me. Not wanting to force a moment by asking him to pose, I moved off to photograph other kids who were playing nearby, thinking that I would undoubtedly get my shot of him another time.<br />
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This past January hanging out with friends I took pictures of some of their children. Once again Lucas was unavailable to me because he spent most of the day with the other boys splashing about in the pool. Boys and water are not a good combination for camera lenses so once again I told myself that I would take his picture another time. <br />
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There would not be another time. Lucas died in a car accident on Carnival Tuesday.<br />
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Lucas has forced me to face an unpleasant truth. You see, I am a worrier. I'm the helicopter mom who hovers about her child trying to sniff out every possible danger at every possible situation before allowing my kids to participate. Honestly I am ridiculous. The swim club Aunties have even banned me from accompanying my child to the pool. He goes with his dad. This tragedy has made me look at my fears differently. I understand that I don't control the universe. Would that I could but despite a parent's best efforts, random and senseless things just happen.<br />
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Should something happen to my own children tomorrow would I prefer my memories to be of them sitting on the side lines of life crippled by my fears? Or, will I prefer to have memories of a life they fully lived.<br />
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I looked at all the pictures of Lucas on Facebook. He is there with his sister, his uncle, his mom, his grand-dad Vladimir <a href="http://projectonethousandfaces.blogspot.com/search/label/vladimir">#127</a> . He is splashing in the small pool at Rampanalagas, visiting a horse farm, having a time in Tobago, sticking a bright orange tongue out to the camera. All testament to the fact that his life though short was full. Full of laughter and love. Ironically it is this love that makes his premature departure so difficult to accept.<br />
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To his parents, I'm thinking of you both today. My prayer is not that you find the strength to get over this, you won't; you can't. However I pray God gives you the strength to survive and go on and maybe one day even enjoy some sense of normalcy.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-44090935237488056232011-05-01T16:19:00.000-07:002011-05-01T16:19:59.660-07:00141<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5677298689/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="picnikfile_2hgZeM by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="picnikfile_2hgZeM" height="473" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5105/5677298689_614de0f749_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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Birthday parties are a blur of children but this youngster's wonderful caramel coloured eyes definitely got my attention. Destined to be a heart breaker that's for sure.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-42264403921907828522011-05-01T14:53:00.000-07:002011-05-01T15:17:24.936-07:00140<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5659627430/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Untitled by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5064/5659627430_350934cde2_z.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The pretty mom of Xavier. One of my son's friends.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-43701615271980006532011-04-04T20:34:00.000-07:002011-04-04T20:34:29.244-07:00139<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5584429812/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="139 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="139" height="429" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5255/5584429812_333d3866fb_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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Nikala was a pretty trainee at Valu Optical. My son was very taken with her after she let him peek through the machine to see the inside of his eye.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-75375675406992543652011-04-04T20:28:00.000-07:002011-04-26T15:48:55.055-07:00138<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5582416078/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="138 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="138" height="461" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5067/5582416078_c8136ee9c4_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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A few of my photos were temporarily lost to me when my poor old pc died. I finally got around to transferring them from the old hard drive. This picture was taken last year when I went for my annual eye exam. This is my friend and optometrist Lara.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-45633798530058900592011-04-02T10:04:00.000-07:002011-04-02T10:04:01.320-07:00137<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5582077631/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="137 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="137" height="429" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5308/5582077631_a253bbaaf2_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-52379891972361394002011-03-06T17:18:00.000-08:002011-03-06T17:31:03.066-08:00136<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5495042333/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Blue Devil by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="Blue Devil" height="429" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5053/5495042333_e2b97dd067_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
In just a couple hours traditional mas' characters like this little guy and others are gonna take to the pre- dawn darkened streets for J'ourvert (Jour ourvert) to start or open the carnival festivities in Port of Spain. From the Patois for "devil" and "molasses" the simple costume consists of short pants with a wire tail, horns and a pitchfork. In olden days they smeared themselves with molasses. Nowadays the whole body is smeared with grease, mud, paint or chocolate. This blue devil was spotted at my son's school carnival parade. Jab Molassies are usually accompanied by imps beating tins who attempt to restrain him by pulling on the rope or chain around his neck.They put on quite a show and try to scare onlookers by banging on tins blowing whistles demanding that you pay the devil in order to be left alone.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-53311231657021957602011-01-30T18:39:00.000-08:002011-01-30T18:42:36.221-08:00135<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5258933833/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="DSC_1248 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="DSC_1248" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5003/5258933833_e4c5049f6e_z.jpg" width="457" /></a></div><br />
Wow, some days I really suck at this. This was one such day. I hated all the pictures I took of Isabel who was incredibly gracious in spite of my atrociousness . In my defence I was distracted by all that chocolate. You see Isabel is a chocolatier and being in her home was like being in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory minus the crazy Johnny Depp. Isabel's chocolates are featured <a href="http://breakfastlunchdinnerandpunch.blogspot.com/2011/01/from-architect-to-chocolatier.html">here</a>. Go on check them out. All that yummy chocolate will make you forget that I messed up this picture.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-63844129852838567302011-01-28T14:02:00.000-08:002011-01-28T15:22:23.094-08:00134<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5379338843/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Untitled by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5046/5379338843_9cb92ba2ce_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Tracey is a Trinidadian multimedia visual artist living and working in Grenada. We met through blogging and when she was here in December she kindly brought me a little pressie. Yay! Click <a href="http://breakfastlunchdinnerandpunch.blogspot.com/2011/01/nifty-nutmeg-chicken-from-grenada-with_23.html">here </a>to see what I got. I was a tiny bit nervous to meet her but we fell right away into an easy conversation while my kids invaded her home (my apologies) and were totally enchanted by her dad. Tracey herself is also a talented photographer who finds beauty in the ordinary little things you and I see everyday yet take for granted. Click <a href="http://www.traceychan.com/">here</a> to check out the work of this talented young artist.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-72210038367170003292011-01-28T09:24:00.000-08:002011-01-28T14:04:53.306-08:00133<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5395447387/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="picnikfile_81fFXD by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="picnikfile_81fFXD" height="458" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5172/5395447387_422228540a_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
This little lovely is my god-daughter. Here we have the pink hat again but Natassia decided to add earrings to the mix. Do you know of any little girl that doesn't like to play dress-up?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-90714429948460564192011-01-28T08:33:00.000-08:002011-01-28T12:34:26.848-08:00132<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5395358201/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="sebastian2 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="sebastian2" height="457" src="http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4122/5395358201_5c90b1de27_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-64208920830876061712011-01-22T18:12:00.000-08:002011-01-22T18:12:55.160-08:00131<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5369141102/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="nicolle by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="nicolle" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5048/5369141102_93a9cf113d_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-27248345816366226882011-01-22T18:02:00.000-08:002011-01-22T18:02:27.164-08:00130<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5377096906/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="andrew by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="andrew" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5286/5377096906_0b07c50044_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-8169277479761272062011-01-21T19:02:00.000-08:002011-01-22T18:09:14.277-08:00129<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5375624189/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="katelyn by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="katelyn" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5289/5375624189_2bb031565f_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Katelyn is pint-sized so when she came out in Aunty Joanne's oversized hat, it was absolutely time to whip out the camera. Katelyn is big sister to Kellan <a href="http://projectonethousandfaces.blogspot.com/2010/07/37.html">(#37)</a> and they both have the same large, dreamy eyes.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-1257653462551711922011-01-21T13:33:00.000-08:002011-01-22T18:08:04.402-08:00128<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5376260308/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="matthew by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="matthew" height="429" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5126/5376260308_061fc4f17d_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-90343336893428851142011-01-21T12:27:00.000-08:002011-01-21T12:28:11.337-08:00127<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5375681727/" title="127 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5050/5375681727_df5195ce75_z.jpg" width="640" height="429" alt="127" /></a><br />
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Vladimir is Johnny's (#126) dad and for a guy with Czechoslovakian parents he sure can put down a wicked curried duck.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-32573274677715774292011-01-21T12:01:00.000-08:002011-01-21T12:04:19.862-08:00126<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5371067253/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Johnny by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="Johnny" height="418" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5126/5371067253_e2a8c46ef9_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Johnny was the best man at our wedding. His birthday lime at a beach house in Toco has become somewhat of an annual tradition. The occasion is greatly anticipated by all (especially the married with kids set) who don't hardly lime the way we used to before. Okay, alrighty - who don't lime at all:-)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-15915757246537409132011-01-21T11:05:00.000-08:002011-01-21T11:05:12.781-08:00125<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5371488033/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="sasha3 by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="sasha3" height="427" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5207/5371488033_42cac02649_z.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Sasha is in her final year of college in New York and his working towards a degree in biology. She hopes one day to get her Phd in cell biology. When asked about a possible career she told me that Aids research might be her thing. She also told me that her aversion to environmental biology was the result of a spring practicum. The assignment? Collecting samples of muskrat poop in the middle of a frozen lake for a population study. Ewwww and brrr!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4699338278200460167.post-64482562312859180272011-01-18T12:28:00.000-08:002011-01-18T12:30:09.631-08:00124<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/wizzythestick/5367481109/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Untitled by Wizzythestick, on Flickr"><img alt="" height="640" src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5286/5367481109_aa23b4ef7c_z.jpg" width="427" /></a></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03376726661081769681noreply@blogger.com2