I'm an owl on the sill in the evening...

Yesterday I bought two new tiny batteries for my inherited pentax slr camera. It used to belong to my Dad when he was my age. I have been taking technically bad but visually interesting pictures with it for a few years, and my heart panged when I thought it had finally kicked the can. But it just needed some new batteries. The last time they were replaced was March 1993, according to the little slip of yellow cardboard that is stuck on the back of the camera. What a long life! This morning I took some pictures in my kitchen. A couple were of my mum as she hurried with her cereal, still in her nightie and her hair wet from washing with no time to blow-dry. She sort of scowled at me, but I just know it's going to be a good picture. I took another one of Winnie sitting on the black and white checkerboard floor, anxious for something to drop. Another out the window, capturing the array of jars and creamers in which strange artifacts sit- a single maraca with a painted mouse face, brought back from Cuba for Callie to shake. A pair of wirey old reading glasses, twist-ties, nails, and a big round magnifying glass. The lens of the magnifying glass showed the snow covered trees upside-down, and the sky behind these things was grey with a soft-pink at the horizon, the rising sun's light hanging on a bit before the day became gray. My Dad shakes his head at me, telling me he finds film so expensive to just snap a lot of pictures. I don't think I care though, I'd rather have a picture to look at later.