A few weeks ago we went to Old Navy to get Matt a new sweater because he likes to wear shirtsleeves to work in the middle of February, and I’m sick and tired of catching his colds. As a rule, I would rather go to a hospital in a third world country to have my gizzards removed than to go clothing shopping with Matt. I grew up seeing my mother lay out my father’s clothes on the bed each morning, and foolishly assumed that marriage allowed me a similar privilege. Not so.

Matt is extremely particular about the things he wears which doesn’t make much sense because most of the time it is merely t-shirts and jeans. So whenever I pick something out that I really want him to purchase I have to go through an entire rigmarole convincing him that this is “SO something your dad would wear.” That usually works, and he will promptly carry the very sharp dress shirt to the counter to pay and we’re off to the races.

On this particular shopping trip, I found an orange and brown plaid flannel shirt that I knew he’d look STINKIN HOT in. I begged and pleaded and gave him the puppy dog eyes, but it was going nowhere. Finally, I pulled out my trump card. “Hon, this is SO Old Man Sullivan!” Since one of Matt’s greatest dreams in life is to become an old-timer like his grandfather, he ATE IT UP!

I spent much of Thanksgiving day sneaking around the dinner table snapping paparazzi-like photos of Matt in his Old Man Sullivan shirt. Hot diggity.

From Daily Daguerreotype

We enjoyed spending the Thanksgiving weekend with my side of the family this year, and the highlight (my sister’s killer turkey edged in as a close second) was spending a ton of time with my littlest niece. All weekend long she kept reaching out her arms for me to pick her up as I was clearly the favorite adult in the room.

Now pick yourself up off the floor because I know you’re all thinking I’m the least child-friendly person you’ve ever met. But I’m telling you the truth here, this little nugget did not want to sit on anyone else’s lap ALL WEEKEND LONG!

Naturally, I was in hog heaven and was becoming, I’ll admit, a bit cocky about the situation. On more than one occasion I made snarky remarks to my poor mother (who can’t even pick up her grandchildren because she’s recovering from a broken collarbone) about how quickly I had become the favorite adult.

As is the way my luck works, there are NO photos of my niece and I snuggling where she actually looks pleased. I suppose it serves me right that she’s all “Can someone tell this wacky woman to please put me down?”

From Daily Daguerreotype

A few years ago I purchased these stocking holders that were perfect for our little family - Matt, Mojo and myself. I chose “Joy” not thinking about the practicality of the three letters, but because it was my favorite word offered. Unwise, as this year we’ve had an increase in family members, and now Mojo’s stocking has nowhere to hang. Berlin’s stocking has taken his “Y.”

Luckily, Pottery Barn has plain stocking holders for sale in the bronze finish, so Mojo will get one of these. Unpersonalized. Are all first children shafted when the second comes along?

From Daily Daguerreotype

From Daily Daguerreotype

Here’s the triptych that Sarah painted for us to go above our bed. I am absolutely in LOVE with it. I sent her a photo of some other paintings we had in that room, and she matched the colors PERFECTLY as well as adding some orange to make Matt happy. I cannot recommend her paintings any higher. She does beautiful work and you can get original artwork from an up and coming artist for a great deal. Check out her site for more. Thanks, Sarah!

While in Bariloche, we decided to take the funicular to the top of a small mountain and look around because we just couldn’t get enough of the amazing scenery. For some reason, I was so excited to sing “Funiculi, Funicula” that I forgot about the fact that I’m TERRIFIED OF HEIGHTS. I can climb mountains and ride in airplanes; I just get very nervous when there is nothing but a pane of glass between my body and the rocky cliffs below.

The nerves set in halfway up the mountain and I started to feel quite ill. I didn’t want to admit it to Matt so I kept my nausea to myself until we reached the summit. I have never been so happy to get out of a little red cube and into the fresh mountain air as I was that day. I walked around the mountaintop enjoying the scenery but staying very far away from the edge and took this shot of a grisly plant that very accurately mirrored what my stomach was feeling at that very moment.

I basically kept my eyes closed the entire ride down.

From Daily Daguerreotype

From Daily Daguerreotype

My good friend John was dandy enough to let me borrow this gorgeous photo for use in Daily Daguerreotype. There’s a bit of a story behind it that I will attempt to recount.

When he was on his virgin voyage to Thailand, John was struck down with the notorious dengue fever. Having never fought this illness myself, I can’t quite relate to the misery that he must have endured. Regardless, he’s a bit of a wuss, and stayed indoors for the first few days until he was feeling better.

Finally, John emerged from his bungalow (with a clean pair of shorts) to do the crazy rock climbing above the ocean thing that only morons attempt. But he was so taken aback by the beautiful seashells on the shoreline, that he decided to delay his death defying stunts to take his D80 out for a spin - this photo is the result.

John has beautiful photos of not only his trips to the East, but quite a few award-winning shots of Chicago. He often has them for sale, and if you’re interested in viewing them or purchasing any, drop me an email and I’ll put you in touch with him.

Thanks, John, for the photo and also for suggesting I get a Nikon. And all the other good & bad advice you give… unsolicited.