Faire Day! Flare Day.

So, we're just past the fifth weekend of Bristol's season. We have nine weekends total, nineteen days (because Labor Day Monday is our closing day). And, not much has changed since my previous post about the left half of my left foot. I've been plodding along and the worst part of it is that the humidity has been kicking my butt. I've been trying to get to other shows, but I always seem to need to sit down more. And I lose the motivation to slog up that hill to stand up and take photos when I'm already so wonderfully sitting down somewhere else. But, I have four more weekends to motivate my fat ass up that hill.

"What about the title?" I can hear you asking. Well, Sunday morning, I woke up having a flareup. The weird part of it is that I didn't realize I was having a flareup till I was halfway there. I mean, I knew I was in pain, but I didn't realize it was flareup pain right away.

I spent all of Sunday, limp-dragging my left foot around behind me. Sit down, stand up, limp-drag-walk-limp-drag-walk. Okay, so maybe "drag" is a bit of an exaggeration. But I was definitely limping and I was walking much slower than usual. The only thing I can think that caused the flareup was the intense humidity. I wasn't itchy or anything, but goddamn was there pain. All over muscle pain that seemed to radiate from my joints. And from my bones in general. Even parts that didn't have joints. Like my collarbones. And my shins. Well, just- you know- all over pain.

I did survive the Faire Day Flare Day, of course. I mean, I wouldn't be here typing this if I hadn't. Monday (which is yesterday as I type this), around 2 in the afternoon, the pain in my left foot became so intense I had to take off my shoes. The whole bottom of my foot felt like it was swollen and bruised. It felt that way to the touch too, but it didn't look swollen (or have any actual bruising). I tried icing it, but it only worked for those moments when the ice was actually touching my foot. It was a lot better today- I lasted till 4 PM before I had to take my shoes off. (in both instances, by "shoes", I mean "Dr Martens boots"). I felt a lot better on Monday, compared to Sunday. And today, aside from the lingering aches from my "hot spots" (today's are my left hip and my right shoulder), I feel like my usual level of aliveness since the Generic Cymbalta started working. So far, so good.

Even in flareup pain, being a faire is a whole lot better than sitting at home. I've said it many times- I could sit at home and be miserable and in pain, or I can go to faire and be NOT-miserable, but still in pain. The choice between wallowing in my stupid disease or hanging out with beautiful people doing awesome things... c'mon. Faire is a remedy for fibro. Trust me, I've tested that theory.

Since it is only Tuesday, I haven't finished my Week 5 photos from the weekend. But, here's the Flickr link to the 2015 Bristol photos. Check back, because I add the photos on Fridays. I will, however, leave you with a bunch of my 365s from Bristol.

Dreaming about Sunshine...

We've had so many cloudy days that I've had dreams about sunshine. They're totally normal dreams, like I'll wake up (in the dream) and see sunlight shining through my bedroom window. In the dream, I sit up in bed and look out into my backyard through the blinds and see lush green grass and trees, with golden morning sunlight streaming through. Only to wake up and see nothing but clouds (or, darkness, depending on the time).

And, of course, with the clouds, we've had rain. So much humidity that even when it wasn't raining, the ground stayed wet. Fog nearly every night. I don't have to tell you how much pain I've been in- you can assume
"a fuck-ton" of pain. And, with that pain, I've had the drag-me-to-the-floor exhaustion. Most nights, when I get in bed, it almost feels like my muscles are vibrating with pain.

AAAANNND... I'm on day seven of the generic of Cymbalta. The "mild" side effects I've had have been slight dizziness and a little nausea. Nothing I can't deal with, but having that on top of everything else has been a wonderful little trip through a suburb of Hell. I suspect actual Hell has lower humidity. "Actual Hell"... Hell Proper, really. Back to the generic of Cymbalta- it does seem to be helping me sleep better. I'm still taking one muscle relaxer at night (with my Vicodin, still) and one in the morning. The pharmacist told me to stop taking those as I needed and that the side effects would last about a week or two.

I'm just waiting for the "makes the pain go away" part. That's all I want.

The other day, I was reading an article or something about fibro (because, why not?) and it gave an excellent description of how fibro feels. I've likened it to being hit by a truck, thrown from a horse, post-workout pain, lactic acid overload, and so on. The article- and I can't find the damn link now- said it somewhat like this: "When someone is poked in the arm, they feel pressure. Their brain receives the signal that pressure has been applied to the area. A person with fibro feels pain." So, where a normal person feels acknowledgement of touching, a fibro sufferer feels like they're being stabbed with an ice pick.

The "ice pick" analogy is my own. Just don't poke me in the goddamn arm, okay? Or stab me with an ice pick. A hug is way nicer than both of those things.

As for the "talks about photography" part of this thing- about a week and a half ago, I got to do something cool...

~Thee Bluebeard Visits Santa~ (and Santa is a familiar face from Bristol).

And later that week, I caught a couple photos of a cardinal. Normally, cardinals in my yard fly away and sit just out of zoom lens range for me. But I was in Racine and this cardinal apparently hadn't gotten the memo from the others to avoid me.






And because the holidays are being crammed down your throat, here are a few photos I've taken in the last couple years. Happy Whatever Holiday You Celebrate!

Well, Hello there! Been a while, hasn't it?

Hi there. Sorry I haven't updated for a while. I wish I could say it was because nothing but goodness and rainbows were all around, but hey, I was just being lazy and procrastinating the hell out of updating.

First of all, Teslacon 2014. It was, of course, amazing. I managed to snag a room in the big hotel (that's where the convention takes place) and that made things immensely easier. Christine and her boyfriend came along and at the last minute, a friend ended up crashing with us, so I was able to save money on the room (that's a thing with the Disabled Guy- he hates spending money unless it is being spent on things for his model trains). My Steampunk Wonder Woman outfit was a huge hit. Everyone loved it. I got so many compliments on that outfit that I just want to wear it all the time. Since everyone who reads this blog is either on my Facebook or Tumblr, you've all seen the Steampunk Wonder Woman outfit.
~Here's the link if you haven't~

I learned something at Teslacon. I can only stand on my feet for an hour before I really need to sit down. And I would need to sit down for a while, not a few minutes. By Saturday evening, my feet felt like they were being sliced open with a vegetable peeler and then stuffed back into leather shoes. That was the worst part for me- the pain. And the pain was mostly foot-related and not so noticeably fibro-related.

Oh, speaking of fibro-related... I arrived to the hotel on Thursday, because Teslacon officially starts on Friday morning. And the friend who ended up crashing in our room with us was there on Thursday as was another friend who only needed a bed for one night (she was staying at a hotel across the street but her husband wouldn't get to Teslacon till Friday afternoon. Heck, Christine and her boyfriend didn't arrive till Friday afternoon either). Anyway, we're all in the room. I'm laying in bed listening to my friends sleeping. Nice, quiet, soothing breathing sounds, like people do when they sleep. AND MY GODDAMN BODY DECIDES TO HAVE FAKE INSOMNIA! There I was, listening to all the sleeping, wide-fucking-awake till three in the morning! If I had been home, I'd have gotten up to come here and complain about it. I woke up at 6 AM, fully awake again. I did the entirety of Friday on three hours sleep. Dressed as Steampunk Wonder Woman.

~Here is the link to my Teslacon album~

Despite the pain and very obvious tiredness, I loved it. And because I didn't have to foot the cost for the room entirely on my own, I was able to purchase my tickets for NEXT year at the hotel, so I saved a few bucks that way (you can get them online starting in January, but there's a charge related to the online transaction). I'm hoping to get a room in the big hotel again for next year. (it was nice to be an elevator ride away if I needed to fall flat on my face). My one regret was that I couldn't get to the closing ceremonies. I was in line, I was walking, but about halfway there, my body just said "NOPE" and I had to sit down.

Now, moving forward... the Vicodin and muscle relaxers aren't working all that great, but I do feel better overall while taking them as opposed to when I don't. (my muscles are less stiff than they would be if I weren't taking them). That thing in my foot that I needed those shots for? Well, it kinda came back. It comes and goes. Some days, it doesn't hurt at all and some days it's so painful I want to chop my foot off and throw it to the sharks. That'd be quite a throw, since I live in the Midwest. I'm taking daytime Vicodin every day now. Oh, speaking of Vicodin... they changed the classification of it and now I have to call in a refill every month instead of just getting a year's worth of refills without having to talk to a human. I have to call, speak to a human, then wait for the pills to be sent to me. Every. Single. Month. I'm just waiting for the day they say I have to drive up to pick them up in person. It's only an hour away, but damn, way to make things a pain in the ass. I've had to start planning my days by how much Vicodin I can take and still function. I'm allowed six pills in a 24 hour period and I'm trying NOT to take that many. I've started timing my trips to the store with when I take the Vicodin and I've even considered using my cane again. And we all know how much I loathe using my cane. (I do, by the way, hate using my cane, just in case anyone forgot).

Earlier this week, I got a letter from my doctor. The VA Hospital's powers-that-be have "approved a 12-week trial run" for the generic version of Cymbalta for me. And so far, everything I've read about it seems to be good. And by that I mean- when it works for people, it works well. What I've been reading has been one or the other- it works well or it doesn't work at all. I haven't found much about "well, it makes me swell up for no reason without noticing for two months till I've loosened all the laces in my boots and can't lace up my corsets properly for faire"... or is that just me?

It's probably just me.

So, as soon as that Generic to Cymbalta arrives, I'll start taking it. And then we'll see... oh yes, we will see... (was that sinister? I was going for sinister).

I don't have any "events" coming up till January 31st. I'll be going to Military History Fest for the first time. My friend, Jeff
(who is one of the most awesome people ever), has been trying to get me there for the last two years. And why does he want me there so badly? Does he like me? Does he enjoy my company? Probably... but it's mostly because they need someone to take photos of their shenanigans.
("They" being GSM-Bristol). Last year, I was planning on going, but a snowstorm kept me from going. This year, I say damn the torpedoes! I'm going, snow or not! There were a variety of slightly blurry mobile phone pics from last year, of the GSM boys acting all over the timeline of military history. And dammit, I want to document it with proper camera equipment. The weird part will be that I'll be in regular clothing. Most of those people haven't seen me in regular clothing. It'll be a shock for all of us, I'm sure.

Now is when I'd usually say: "Now my favorite photos from Teslacon!"... well, just go to the album (linked above and again here). My absolute favorite shots are from the Grand Ball on Saturday night and the cast photos that I got to do. They let me set up my light stand (with umbrella and flash) in the casts' green room for a couple of hours. It worked out great, because I had a place to sit and rest and a fairly decent background to work with. And I just sat and waited for cast members to come and go. You'll recognize some faces from Bristol. (mainly my sea captains and other various nobility).

So, instead of filling this post up with photos you can clearly see by going to the whole album, I'll share my 365 photos from that weekend...

Thursday- I actually purchased a copy of that poster and it is hanging in my kitchen now.



Friday- I'm just going to link to it because it's a shot of my flipper foot after an entire day mostly on my feet (dressed as Steampunk Wonder Woman). The reason the swelling looks so weird is just because of the way my boots squished it around.

Saturday- we were getting ready for the Grand Ball. I wore my black blouse with my red and black Damsel in this Dress corset with a long red skirt and matching bustle. But this is a mobile phone shot of my face after I did my makeup. I texted it to the Disabled Guy with: "TELL ME I'M PRETTY!!" His reply was: "Pretty."



And on Sunday. Me with Thee Bluebeard! (he was our roommate at the hotel). I had him hold the camera and I fired it with my remote trigger. And being Thee Bluebeard, he was an excellent sport about it. And yes, I decided at the last minute to dress up as my Steampunk Wonder Woman on Sunday. How could I not? That hat is fabulous! (by the way, those buttons on my bodice are for the "L.I.O.N.S. of Teslacon", "The Baton Faction", Thee Bluebeard, and the weird-shaped medal is one of my old shooting medals. It says: "Small-bore Sharpshooter" and I thought it was a hilarious pun because of the photography thing).

Here we are... middle of the night again...

So, I'm taking 20 mgs of this Amitriptyline crap. Yes, it's crap. It isn't helping. It does nothing for the pain and it absolutely does nothing for the sleep. I am wide-the-fuck-awake right now. I haven't slept good in weeks. As I increased the dose of this medicine, I had to decrease the dose of muscle relaxers because I'm apparently not supposed to take them together. So, I'm on this useless-as-Tic-Tacs shit medication and NOT on the muscle relaxers. Granted, the muscle relaxers weren't doing a great job anymore (judging by my posts in the early Spring through the start of Summer), but when I took them, THEY RELAXED MY MUSCLES. Not always perfectly, but now that I'm not on them, I can feel every goddamned twinge in my muscles. Every ache. Every pull. Every single muscular movement that could turn into a motherfucking Charlie Horse.

You ever have a Charlie Horse? You know that sudden, stabbing, searing, agonizing, pull-the-muscle-from-the-bone-like-a-tender-turkey-slow-roasted-in-Aunt-Sandy's-oven pain... Now imagine having one of those in your goddamn arm. Or back. Or even your abdominal muscles. How about a slow pulling pain? Like if you took a rubber band and pulled it slowly, slowly, slowly till it was at the limit of its flexibility... now pretend that rubber band is your goddamn muscle. Yeah. Sucks, don't it?

This is my third middle-of-the-night episode in about two weeks' time. And these are getting less fun as they go along. I suppose the good thing I can say is that I'm not swollen anymore. I mean, when I do swell, it's the "normal" amount. Meaning that I do still have the same "unexplained" edema I've always had, but I no longer have that all-over body swelling that always left me with flippers instead of feet. At the end of the day, my feet look normal.

Let me tell you something rather ridiculous... I was actually sick with something that had NOTHING to do with fibro! The weekend of October 11th and 12th was A Gathering of Rogues & Ruffians, my last ren faire for the season. (I still have Teslacon, but that's not a ren faire). On Saturday, before we left, I became rather unwell. I spent approximately forty minutes in and out of the bathroom, never straying too far from a receptacle, lest my body purge the contents of the last six months.

But, I soldiered on, because, goddammit, I'd rather be miserable at the faire than be miserable at home. Around 1 PM, it became obvious that what I had was a case of food poisoning and I had to leave the faire. I haven't left a faire early since 2009, when I left the Janesville Faire after my shift at the new age shop ended (I did tarot card readings at a new age shop's tent there). That was less than two months after my knee replacement surgery. So, now I've left GRR to go home. I took a wee bit of a nap (about an hour and a half, broken into twenty minute increments, because why the fuck not?) and while I was awake and laying in bed trying not to die, I felt relieved. I was relieved to feel something in my body that was NOT fibro. Food poisoning pain is a totally different kind of pain than that of fibro. Around 7 PM that day, I felt a wave of relief. I could feel the effects of the food poisoning wearing off. I ate soup!

Long story short- I made it through all day Sunday at the faire, but mostly because I didn't eat anything and I drank water and Sprite.

That leaves us up to date on the goings on in my life. Fibro still fucking sucks. Food poisoning doesn't give a damn if you have fibro or any kind of obligation. This medication doesn't work for shit and I feel terrible all the goddamn time now. And yes, there are photos of A Gathering of Rogues and Ruffians... because even when I'm sick as hell, I will do the job I'm expected to do.

So, I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow, tell her how terrible life is, beg for a change, and get through the next two weeks and go to Teslacon because TESLACON! While I'm doing that, enjoy this selection of photos from the 2014 Gathering of Rogues and Ruffians.

Death would hurt less...

I was going to put off writing this post till I had my Flickr photos up to date with the macros I've been doing since faire season is on its month-long hiatus (Closing Day at Bristol- Labor Day Monday. Next faire- Stronghold Olde English Faire, October 4th and 5th, then A Gathering of Rogues & Ruffians on the 11th and 12th. AND THEN Teslacon on November 7th, 8th, and 9th). I did a bunch of really cool shots of raindrops on maple leaves. The underside of the leaves cause an awesome beaded water effect, so I've been going understandably nuts with the macro lens.

However, with the final weekend photos and the wedding photos, I haven't been uploading macros to Flickr on a regular basis. I just checked and I have around 80 photos from September alone to upload. And honestly, I don't have the mental enthusiasm to upload 80 photos and caption and tag each one. Not today.

Not only am I stuck without fibro treatment- beyond the Vicodin and Cyclobenzaprine I've been taking for years- I also ran out of my hydrochlorothiazide (spelled that from memory!). I was out of refills and instead of calling in the automated thing, I just waited till my doctor appointment that same week and had them renew everything that needed renewing... except that I ran out before the refill came. So not only was I swollen as a reaction to the generic Effexor, I've been having the swelling associated with not having my much-needed water pills. (they should arrive tomorrow or the next day, according to the automated checkup I did today).

I feel like I'm being smothered in pain. My clothes fit weird because I'm swollen sort of all over, but not in a proportional way. I'm cramming swollen, flipper feet into shoes because it hurts more to go without shoes (and by "shoes" I mean super-comfy hiking boots). I've been wearing my largest, softest shirts and believe it or not, I only have a few days' worth.

Death would hurt less. I'm in hell. I started crying and I couldn't figure it out, till I realized I've been randomly crying from the pain. When I sit absolutely still, I have pain, but it feels more like a dull burning feeling in my muscles. Like I've overexerted my muscles and now my body has too much lactic acid in it. And sometimes my skin itches... sometimes it aches. And if I move, that dull burning ache turns into a searing, stabbing agony. Lifting a 20 ounce bottle of water hurts. Having a four-pound Chihuahua step on my leg in an effort to get over me to the cushion on the back of the sofa is like being stabbed with a dull, hot piece of metal. And that pain lingers. All that plus my wrists alternately or simultaneously feel like I've sprained them. I can't put any weight on my hands when I get out of this chair. You know, this office chair with arms on it so I can use them to get up easier than just sliding out of the chair and crumbling into a heap on the floor.

On top of that general feeling of "Living Hell", after I've sat still for a while and go to move, I sometimes have to actually move my legs with my hands so I can get up. My burning, aching muscles tend to stiffen up while I'm sitting still. Right now, in my office chair, my legs are going to scream like a heavy metal symphony when I decide to stand up. I'm also back to waking up every hour-ish at night. So, no sleep exacerbates the pain, the pain makes it so I can't sleep, so the lack of sleep exacerbates the pain, and then I can't fall into a deep enough sleep, and I spend my days in more pain because I'm not sleeping well, and when I do go to bed, I don't get restorative sleep, so I'm in more pain during the day.

JANE!! STOP THIS CRAZY THING!!

Who the hell is Jane in this story? My doctor's name isn't Jane. (actually, her first name is Jennifer and I think she's the same age as my oldest kid).

The Disabled Guy is sick and tired (ha!) of hearing me bitch about it. I can't help it, though. I get up and somehow I'm supposed to function like a normal person. I put my clothes on and an hour later they're so uncomfortable that I have to change into my giant yoga pants... or get naked under fleece blankets. But you can't go to the store or post office wearing only two fleece blankets. And driving while on this much pain medication is probably not good either.

Now, I've had a few people ask me why I don't use compression stockings for the swelling. Because obviously, in the last nine years, I haven't tried EVERYTHING. I have doctor prescribed, fitted to my size compression stockings. And all they do is push the swelling up to above my knee and leave deep red marks on the backs of my knees. Oh, and since I had the total knee replacement five years ago, that super-tight compression stocking seam that lays across the bottom of the scar feels SO DELIGHTFUL!

Well... I took some photos. I wore my compression stockings for four hours the other day. And I took some photos... (with my phone, because I can't carry my camera and use both hands to drag myself up the stairs).

Here's my leg in one of the stockings (after about four hours). Yes, my leg is swollen above the stocking and my knee no longer has knee-like definition.

Oh, and guess what... my calf and foot still swelled up under that compression stocking. That line on my ankle is where the stocking cut into my swollen skin because I was standing/sitting with my foot at the normal angle that all humans (except ballerinas) stand.

Here's another shot- with more of my calf visible.

Nice, huh? And these were prescribed by a doctor. They measured my legs and everything.

Here's the other leg (the one that was photographed still in the stocking). Oh, and by the way, taking these stockings off was an experience in torture. As I rolled them down, it felt like I was scraping the skin off my bone with a dull Ulu knife.

One more shot... you can kinda see the line left at the top of my calf. Behind the knee, it was red and irritated.

And now you know why I don't wear skirts that show my legs. People say: "Oh, it doesn't matter! Nobody would notice!" I beg to differ, Sparky. Giant elephant legs attached to flipper feet with a huge scar down one knee... that's kind of obvious and difficult to ignore.

The first person who tells me that fibro isn't a real disease is going to get kicked in the crotch with a flipper foot. Think about it- the flipper foot is wider and bulkier than a normal foot. It will cover more ground (so to speak). Hippos are the deadliest animal... imagine a hippo with the ability to kill on land. Yeah... I might take a while to catch up to you, but I'm stubborn and you'll get tired.

I'm going to end this with the song that I've had stuck in my head all day.

This blog post is brought to us by Insomnia-Lite™

Why am I awake right now? Well, let's just check off this list...

 ✔All-over body pain. Every bit of movement causes stabbing pain through my muscles. Every bit of absolute stillness is met with a dull ache throughout my entire body.

✔Skin-on-fire. My skin is hot to the touch and I feel slightly swollen all over. Add to the skin-on-fire the whole a million hairy-legged spiders attempting to burrow out through my skin, because being hot, but not sweating isn't as much fun if you don't have random and deep-rooted itching through it all.

✔Painful numbness. Which is the stupidest thing ever. If it's NUMB, why is it also PAINFUL? Doesn't the word "numb" negate the word "pain"?

I dozed off twice in the hour and a half that I was in bed.

Now, let's move on a bit... I have some news to update the previous blog post. In that one, I mentioned that the doctor wants to put me on a Vitamin B-12 supplement (and folic acid). I got a letter from her on Wednesday and on Thursday, she called. It was weird. I'm not used to being treated like a human person by the faceless organization of the VA hospital.

So, basically, I'm on a daily dose of B-12 and folic acid now. That's supposed to help with the painful numbness from the neuropathy in my foot. . The previous blog mentioned the generic version of Cymbalta as our next step in the Fibrofuckingmyalgia Roulette Wheel of Fuck You. The call on Thursday was to let me know that the Assholes in Charge of Bullshit and Disappointment denied her request to put me on Generic Cymbalta. Instead, she's sending me Amatriptyline.

I sent this info to a friend who is in the real world and doesn't deal with the Wheel of Fuck You and the Bullshit and Disappointment department. As it is after midnight, I'm not going to text him for his actual job title, so I'll make one up as close as possible. He's the Head Wizard of the Ministry of Biological Medical Testing and Fancy Science-y Words. There... I'm pretty sure that's exactly what his business cards say.

His response to that above information, with my closing sentence of: "So we're just going to keep throwing shit at it till something sticks and doesn't make me swell up" was this: "For Fuck's Sake". There's a reason I love that guy.

Sometime this week, I realized that the reason I feel so utterly shitty is because I'm back to unbridled fibrofuckingmyalgia. Taking Vicodin on a schedule that would impress the train guy with the watch. Hey, it's almost 1 AM here, that's about the crux of my creativity. I'm getting all the pain, all the swelling, all the fatigue, all the bullshit, all the disappointment. I'm also incredibly emotional. If you say something nice to me, I might cry.

In the last post, I shared some photos of my swollen calves and mentioned that my feet and ankles were small because I'd just taken off my boots. Well, I took a couple photos the other day. This is what my ankles look like about an hour after I take my boots off.

This is the infamous Flipper Foot. I could propel myself through the water with the grace of a dolphin with this goddamn thing.

And this is the Not-Flipper Foot. It isn't as swollen as the other one. Not sure why, because they have the exact same type of swelling.

So, now we wait... we wait for the new drug to come in the mail. We wait for the B-12 and folic acid to start doing whatever it is they're supposed to do. And then we wait to see if the new drug is going to help me or push me a little toward the Dolphin Transformation. If I suddenly start balancing a ball on my nose, I will definitely take a photo of that for you.

Would we like to end on a high note? Because I can totally do that right now. On Sunday (September 14th), I accepted my friend's offer to step outside my comfort zone and photograph her daughter's wedding. I spent the afternoon taking my usual style of photos (ninja, on the sly, trying to blend in and not be noticed even though I was the largest person there) and the usual posed photos.  And then I spent the next four days thinking I was the world's worst photographer. All I could see was things that were wrong and how I should have done them (this was the first time I've shot a wedding- which my friend knew up front, before I accepted her offer).

The families love the photos and that's all that matters (I have to ignore the naysayer that lives in my brain). The comments from both family members and people not associated with them at all make me teary-eyed.

And here are a few of those photos- Josh and Kat's Wedding, September 14, 2014 at Parkway by the Lake, Ingleside, Illinois.

There was a strict "no bride photos on Facebook" before the ceremony. But Kat got to see Josh on Facebook before the wedding.



And this is Josh seeing Kat for the first time- walking down the aisle.







Directly after the ceremony, we tried to get some posed shots on the lake. But the sun was so bright and almost directly overhead.



I created some shade, using the Promaster 5-in-1 reflector thing I have.



Without all my gear, we had to improvise. I told him that his high school counselor told him he could be anything, so he was a shade tree.



The groom (reflected in the mirror behind the ladies) took this photo with the bridesmaid's phone, so I took this shot.



We went back out a few hours later to get better posed shots with the setting sun. Kat asked Josh to carry her, so of course he did. And of course, I took a photo of it.