Picture this

Husband: “You need a camera for your blog.”
Me: “I know.”
Husband: "So you can take pictures of all the things you cook."
Me: "I know."
Husband: "And bake."
Me: "I know."
Husband: “Let’s buy you one.”
Me: “It’s not in the budget.”
Husband: “Let’s get one, anyway.”
Me (sticking firmly to my guns): “Okay.”

And so began the saga of The Camera.

The Camera, as I like to call it, is a Panasonic something or other that takes pictures and movies and does other stuff I will never know about because I refuse to read the manual which is in English and about 18 other languages which makes it the size of the dictionary for an obscure language which, in turn, makes it intimidatingly big and more boring than watching sports interviews which, as everyone knows, always consist of the same three quotes (“I owe it all to the Lord,” “I will try my best for my team,” and “I owe it all to the Lord” - if you noticed that the first and last quote were the same, then you are swifter than the average player).

But I digress.

So there I was, refusing to read the manual, when the ever-patient husband (who takes manuals to bed for a good read the way the rest of us read really interesting material, like cookbooks) suggested I put the manual down (“Put the manual down”) and go for a wee walk and just screw around with the camera.

“Okay,” I said, mustering all the enthusiasm of a pirate facing the plank.

So out we went.

And, yeah, ok, so it was fun. Bugger off. And, for once, a way to use my fine arts degree (which had nothing to do with composition and every other skill I desperately need here - it was the other type of fine arts - but I can imagine). So here are my very first pictures.

We found the ... Squash? Demented pumpkin? Horribly overgrown tomato? ... behind a restaurant. When one of the chef’s came out and saw us in their stinking alley, I immediately turned to the husband and said “See. I told you this wasn’t a shortcut.” He, who is full of witty retorts, took one look at my silly grin (the first one he had seen once I got hold of that 18 pound manual) and did not. He just held my hand and grinned back.

I married me a good man. I should take his picture.