The AWC is excited to debut the first in the senior portrait genre, first of what we hope are many to come. Senior portraits are in no way like a wedding. Weddings are fast paced, moment based, and documentary by nature. We got those. 

Nope, senior portraits are styled shoots. That, dear reader, is what the AWC was born to do. Many seniors do activities outside school such as sports, music, theater, or dance. Even if a senior doesn't have extracurricular activities, they know what they like. River spots, horses, flowers, cowboy boots, cars. 

Bring on Skyla's dance portraits. We chose the Sutter Creek Theater and they graciously worked with us in preparing the theater and allowing us to take over on a Thursday morning. Kristi created a flower installation and a beautiful spray to help Skyla celebrate the conclusion of this part of her performance. Jenny did hair and make up to fit the dramatic theatric elements. Lighting, shooting, and editing is based in drama, theather and a cinematic feel. 

It's a serious responsibility to document the growth in a person's life, be it a senior portrait, wedding, new baby, or growing family. I was honored to create with these talented and professional women. I appreciate their faith in me. 

Skyla Loffland - Beautiful ballerina @skyla.loffland
Kristi Young - Florals by @rusticrootsdecoratinganddesign
Jenny-O - Hair and makeup by @hamujennyo 
Sutter Creek Theater - Venue -@suttercreektheatre
Liz Curtis - Lighting and Morale Assistance  
Helen Loffland - Lightning assistance by @helenbombay 
Skyla was educated in dance at The Studio in Sutter Creek - @thestudioptds 

Much gratitude and appreciation felt in 2021. Here are the highlights. See you in 2022.

Thank you to everyone who created with me this year. Special thanks to my girls who are totally reliable and down to work: @rusticrootsdecoratinganddesign, @hamujennyo, and my mom and second shooter who is the most down to ride, literally through snow and ice Liz Curtis.

Thank you Stella, Salomon, your family and friends. What a wonderful October, 2021 wedding. 

Celebrate with something big, something lasting, something artful. Give the gift of memories. ​

Some  favorite photos of veterans I've taken over the years. Many of these are from the Marine Corps Ball in 2019. 

Lastly, is my Dad, my favorite veteran to photograph. 

Veterans always get 10% off bookings. Your sacrifice is appreciated. 

I'm inspired to see the number of happy moments I've spent this year with my clients and friends as they grow their families, marry the love of their life, celebrate themselves, watch their children grow and build their businesses. What an incredible honor and responsibility I have! Looking forward to another great season as we move into Fall and the Holidays!  

It's been a while since I introduced myself, so here's a peek at the person behind the camera. 

I'm wife to Jesse, for over 10 years, but we're pushing 20 together. We travelled the world, finished college and started careers before having children. Our kids are Barrett, 6 and Graham, 3. 

I started Kelly Curtis Photography 6 years ago, after immersing myself in emergency medicine and teaching. When I became a mom, I found that being with Barrett was the most fulfilling and interesting job I could ever do, so I dedicated myself to being a full-time Mom. 

With a first baby, there is lots of quiet time, so, having experimented with photography since childhood, I started down a path of self-taught photography. I did a friend's wedding, then another friend's family photos. I took photos of my husband, as a new dad with his first son.

What struck me about photographing people instead of say, dogs or mushrooms, was that I found myself playing a crucial role in the milestones of people's lives. Suddenly, I was helping people celebrate their bond with their loved ones. I am still struck, that with every beautiful photo I make, I am memorializing a very important part of a person's life.

Creating something bigger than myself, something lasting, that told a story of people and their lives was an unexpected reward of the photography job. I found joy in showing people the love they have in their world, by creating a large family portrait, capturing the ring exchange at a wedding, or recording a quiet moment between a mother and a new baby. 

The greatest honor I have as a photographer is walking into a long-time client's home for another shoot and seeing photos that we made together all over their walls. I love that they can hand their children these photos someday, and say, "Look, our life is art."

The business has grown, but the roots are the same. Now I work with my mom, Liz Curtis, on almost every shoot and wedding. She's incredible to work with because she finds immense value in the craft and she really loves people.

True to the roots of my business, I limit the amount of work I do each year. My main job is still being home with my kids, my husband, our parents and family.

Lastly, at the end of the day, when I wrap a client's photos and prepare them for the reveal, it's very important that I finish the job with the original quality of service that I gave my first clients, my best and closest friends. Our lives really are art and should be treated as such. 

Photo Credits:
Selfie
Amazing hair cut and style by  Kayla at 49 Hair Design
Artful earrings - Jewelry for change - Didi Jewelry Project

​If anything I do is worthy of a blog post, cooking a thirty-pound turkey on Thanksgiving is it. There we were, Barrett and I, the night before Thanksgiving, at the smallest grocery store in our county looking at three of the biggest birds ever farmed. 
 
Therein lies the mistake I didn’t know I was making all month: waiting until twelve hours before Thanksgiving dinner to grocery shop. This seems so incredibly obvious now, that I’m not sure how I missed it. Of course there would only be thirty-pound birds left, of course. 
 
In the midst of a global pandemic, I feel like I should almost condemn turkey farmers. Nobody on Earth would need a monster-turkey this year. I could have probably gotten away with a couple Cornish game hens. Actually, if it weren’t for The Rona, all I really would have had to do was my usual, show up, try to keep the kids from breaking stuff, drink a glass of wine and help with the cleanup. Maybe make some cranberry sauce.
 
Yes, we planned Thanksgiving at home, just the four of us, where every other year of my life has been spent with people who know better than to grocery shop the night before.  
 
Alas, I transferred the bird from the freezer to that place on the cart reserved for cases of beer and seedless watermelons, had it scanned, and strapped it into Graham’s car seat for the drive home. 
 
I was half way home before I realized three things: I forgot Mayonnaise, I have nothing big enough to cook in, and lastly, the poor bird probably couldn’t even walk by the time it was done with life. What had I done?
 
We emptied a toy tote and brought the ice cube in to begin thawing and I promptly texted a few family members that I was in over my head. I received various replies, but the resounding frequency was, “30 lbs? Are you sure?” 
 
My dad called me immediately, mostly to commiserate and laugh. 
 
“I don’t even like turkey,” I said. “Now I have to double up the cranberry sauce too.”
 
“Look at the bright side,” he said. “Friday morning you’ll only have twenty-six pounds of leftover turkey.”
 
In the morning I ran to the store for a swimming pool and a meat bag to cook the bird in and when I got home, I still prioritized baking pumpkin pies. I called my mom to tell her proudly that I had baked three pies that I knew would not go to waste. 
 
She gasped. “It’s going to take twelve hours to bake that bird. You’ll be eating dinner at midnight.”
 
In the end it wasn’t that bad. It only took nine hours to bake the bird. I’ll spare the details, but I rubbed some Hawaiian salt on the outside, put the bird in the oven long enough to thaw so I could take out the stuff inside and put other stuff inside. Then, I spent the rest of the day checking its temperature. (This is one area where I excel, but after this year, I suppose we all do.) 
 
I should mention Jesse helped with this process. Men love doing the dangerous jobs, so we let him lift that heifer in and out of the burning oven. Truthfully, it was his bacon-mashed potatoes that saved the day when we all got hungry and realized we had two hours until the turkey would be done. 
 
This is all to say, we really do need to be together with our loved ones on holidays. The Rona is hampering our very traditions and heritages. Mothers need to be mothered, Fathers need to exclaim about the new projects around the house, Grandmothers need someone to spoil, Grandfathers need to tell their childhood stories about trains, children need to get rowdy and be sent outside, aunties need to help with the turkey, and uncles need to read books about bunnies. It’s just been that way for generations.
 
We ate dinner and Zoomed over pie with lots of family members, people we might not have seen otherwise this year. The positive side of this story is that we handed turkey and pie over the fence to our neighbors, will have enchiladas for days, ham for Christmas, and we only had twenty-five pounds of leftover turkey. 

​I have attempted to write a blog post outlining my feelings on the definition, orchestration, and outcome of The Flag Series and I have failed, not because I couldn’t think of anything to say, but because, I couldn’t bring myself to say the things I thought. 
 
At some point, ownership of this project was transferred from me to the participants and it would not do for me to monologue on top of the beauty we created. I must simply, let the photos speak for themselves.
 
However, I do need to say, thank you – a wholehearted thank you to those who believed in me, in Jenny O., came out to be photographed and support our proclamation that the American flag is a symbol of diversity and tolerance in addition to whatever other uses it my be employed. We see the strength in our differences. 
 
Much gratitude and respect. I love and appreciate you all. 

If you read Part 1 of this blog post, you’d know we set out to create an image that would resound with Americans and encourage patriotism (yes, even in a time when people ask ‘Is patriotism ok today?). 
 
Our goal with the main image was to create a feeling of competent, powerful leadership. Every American will respond to compassion. It doesn’t matter what the political affiliation is – every human wants to believe their leader cares what happens to them. 
 
All I wanted was a big sky and a granite rock. On the El Dorado National Forest, that’s easy to find. It’s free. It’s ours. It’s public. Anyone with a car and a map can access a national forest within a couple hours. 
 
So there we were, Miss Nevada, in a draping gown, on top of a big granite rock. On all sides of her was a drop of varying magnitudes, from a tumble into the brush to an actual fall into the reservoir. And she’s afraid of heights. Add sand and skimpy trails to the equation and a giant, heavy flag that CANNOT touch the ground. Oh yes, and 'Nasya, will you please look in the direction of the sun.?' 
 
(By the way, we owe many thanks to the Marine Corps League Motherlode Detachment 1080, not for only fighting for our freedom, but for also letting us borrow their awe-inspiring flag. Jenny O. got chills the first time she saw it. It’s a true beauty and the image would not have happened without their kindness.) 
 
We needed wind. I have never been to Bear River Reservoir Dam without it blowing a gale, but there we were and the air was dead as a doornail. We’d brought a leaf blower just in case, so Jenny stood inches from the fall into the water and blew. My mom managed a light and photographed other angles. Nasya’s mom, Lisa, observed all of this and offered positive feedback, but probably secretly hoped that her daughter wouldn’t take a nasty biff, or need stitches after a shoot with Kelly Curtis. 
 
Here comes the honesty that most photographers, even me, don’t offer willingly. The main photo is a composite. It's two photos blended together in the editing phase. I could write an entire blog post on the ethics of compositing, but as long as we are truthful about it, we can do anything with imagery today. 
 
It’s very important to note that the image is a composite. The symbolism of the goddess, the leadership, and the patriotism is imperative to get correct. I liken the image to the production of a play. It's art, a symbolic statement meant to provoke thought and awe at the American landscape and theory of justice, liberty, dreams and opportunity for all. 
 
Anyways, I moped around for a couple days mourning the weather. High-pressure, no wind, no clouds, no drama. One of the hardest parts of a styled shoot is the scheduling. It was shooting day whether I liked it or not, so I accepted that to make the vision come true, I'd need to composite. I went back a couple days later and photographed the lovely clouds. (You can see an image below where I kept the sparse sky because it was a beautiful contrast to the movement, angle, and pose of Nasya.)
 
On my way to the location to set up a tent where Nasya could change wardrobes, I stopped in where Jenny was doing hair and makeup. Jenny was wearing her mask and doing one hell of a bold smokey-eye. She used charcoal instead of black to emphasize Nasya's eyes and did her skin high gloss with a natural lip. She used Featherlite Leather to tie up Nasya’s hair in a mohawk, to give the appearance of a helmet, but she left some down so we could have feminine movement in the wind. 
 
As for wardrobe, we had a bolt of hand-me-down fabric, about seventy-five linear feet of sheer removed from my living room, and a dress bought at goodwill. We wrapped the sheer for the Columbia shot and went from there.  
 
After the Columbia shot on the rock, we went down to the parking lot for some blue-hour photos. We spent about twenty-minutes making some pretty photos (with found items in nature) and called it a day. 
 
One of the beautiful things about our shoot is that it was entirely non-commercial. Each of us participated out of mutual respect for one another and love for our country and sadness at our nation's turmoil.   
 
During those last twenty minutes of shooting, I was overcome with the feeling that anyone could do a shoot like this and that was very powerful for me. I don't believe everyone in our country has the same opportunity for education, power, and riches, (Vote, Vote, Vote) but for taking a picture in nature, they do. 

No, not everyone is Nasya Mancini and can become Miss Nevada, but she did compete for seven years to win her title. No, not everyone has Jenny O. doing their hair and makeup, but Jenny has worked her entire career to have the freedom to work complimentary on projects close to her heart. And no, not everyone has a fancy camera and cool editing software, but I have never taken a class on photography. I am entirely self-taught through online tutorials and you-tube. 
 
Everyone has free access to public lands (or a spot with some green stuff), a piece of fabric, a smartphone, and editing apps. I would love to see what you come up with for your own concept shoot with your kids, your sister, your boyfriend, grandmother, for the people and sentiments close to your heart. ​

 
When we started planning the Nasya Mancini shoot, we had visions of nature, perhaps Lake Tahoe, maybe even a commercial location. Then Covid-19 shut down, canceled or postponed everything. 
 
Our Miss Nevada shoot was rescheduled for early June. Jenny, Nasya, and I had several weeks to plan and think. We thought maybe to represent the change Covid-19 has inflicted on our lives, Nevada style. An empty saloon? Why not?
 
Then George Floyd was murdered and our Nation was thrust deeper into to turmoil. Police violence, riots, deeply-rooted racism and ill presidential leadership stacked with the trauma of an out-of-control global pandemic, collapsed American economy and continuously tolling death bell. 
 
Americans are grossly divided. Everything we do is politicized, (even going to the grocery store), and we can be sure to see and hear stories of hate every day. Instead of providing us with a unifying voice and promoting peace in our great country, our president is responding with overwhelming negligence and misconduct. 
 
It is in this climate that we planned and performed the Miss Nevada, Nasya Mancini, photo shoot. I knew I wanted to use the American flag in the shoot. I wanted a powerful symbol that could speak to every American. 
 
Though we are diverse and our experiences vast, I believe the flag can inspire us, as Americans to do better for ourselves and for the future. For me, the flag has been a symbol of dreams, standards, ethics, and unity since I was a child reciting the Pledge of Allegiance in school. I think many Americans have a similar experience even if we are disenfranchised at times. 
 
We chose to have Nasya perform the character Columbia who over the centuries has represented America in terms of liberty, justice, equality, immigration, education, armed forces recruitment, and of course some of the more capitol endeavors of Americans, such as Columbia Pictures. Columbia is as cherished and sometimes commercialized as America herself, but at the heart of Columbia is the goddess Athena, who is pure as only a goddess can be.   
 
Athena, goddess of war who won with cunning, planning and knowledge. She was a true leader who encouraged people to build, craft, make arts, and learn, to become educated and fight the battles with intelligence. America seems on the brink of war with itself and my hope is that our voice of calm patriotism can be heard with a dramatic photograph. I hope we can inspire people to choose better for themselves, their families, their communities and their nation, to vote with their wallet, their heart, and their mind. 
 
NEXT UP: In Part 2 of this blog, we’ll discuss the technical stuff on how we pulled off this and more amazing images. We'll discuss hair and make up, wardrobe, location, and shoot specifics. 
​

As far as neighborhood citizenship goes, there are few things more embarrassing than chasing your dog through the neighbors’ yard yelling, “come” to a dog whom you can’t even see, let alone believe will actually come. It’s particularly confusing to neighbors when the dog is new to the family and has a human name, such as Jamie. I’m just glad I haven’t had to do this in my bathrobe, yet. 
 
Jamie is a bird-dog. Pure German Shorthair Pointer, she was bred to hunt and her instinct to chase birds is as strong as mine is to eat Rice Krispies at bedtime. She’s also a water-dog. One of the times I ran through the neighborhood yelling, “Jamie, Come!” (Yes, this happened more than once), our senior neighbors were so startled and shaken they reportedly called one another saying, “There is someone outside yelling.” 
 
The first thing I did after a particularly long game of Where is My Dog? was retrieve my water-logged retriever. By then, she was out of the pond, where I did not witness, but suspect she was playing her own game of chase with the Canada goose family who also resides in our hood. I apologized to the smiling land-owner, who complimented her beauty, and politely explained that they see their geese as pets. 
 
(The second thing I did, was wonder. If my neighbors heard me yelling outside, why didn’t they come out and see if I needed help?  What does it mean to be a good neighborhood citizen, really?)
 
Anyways, please help us welcome Jamie to the family. She’s an almost-two-year old GSP whom I purchased from a breeder in Loomis, CA - Winter Creek GSPs. The Branns are responsible and ethical breeders who have many years of breeding, training and competing experience. 
 
I feel compelled to explain this because I’ve only ever adopted rescue dogs in the past. Between the months of November and April, I looked at over a million rescue and shelter dogs in our region that need homes. I applied for approximately twenty dogs, and received only three calls back from rescues that had already, thanks to shelter in place orders and bored families everywhere, adopted out the dogs. I did a trial with a rescue dog who made me fear for the safety of my children. 
 
With summer and fire season fast approaching, I decided to call breeders of German Shorthair Pointers and ask about purchasing an adult female. I already have two puppies at home named Barrett and Graham, so an adult was in our cards. I quickly learned that a responsible breeder tests for and humanely breeds for health, intelligence, work ethic and temperament. Ironically, Pam was selling Jamie because she had “stopped birding.” I chose GSP because I have some experience chasing bird dogs (oh love Zahara and KD) and because the female size is manageable to me at forty-five pounds. Also, obviously, they have short hair. 
 
Jamie is silly, smart, beautiful, and quick-learning with floppy ears. She is physically and mentally tolerant of children streaking through the house with a sheet over their head at top volume (probably even more-so than me). To Jamie, children are the most interesting and wonderful beings in the world, second only to feathers. She is a little shy, but responds to strangeness with inquisition. She’s my first speckled dog and we love her and she is quickly learning “come,” because she’s also learning that she’s home. 

​Some theories of psychology reference an ‘inner child’ we all harbor, who just wants to be nurtured and loved. I have a cranky, under-slept seventeen year old who, in times of stress, just wants to be alone on a riverbank with a dog and a book. Simplify. Simplify. Simplify. 
 
However, of course, the most beautiful parts of my life circle back to friends and family. First photography gigs and a business built on friendly willingness to be in front of my novice camera, hand-me-down clothes for my kids, shared toys and recommended books, ideas and advice, and people who say, “I hear you.”
 
In early March, right before COVID-19 closed us down, I visited Kristi. Her kids were at school and mine spent two hours playing outside with their toys while Kristi and I talked shop and debated how big COVID would turn out to be. (Turns out we were both wrong.) Before we left, she gave us a huge box of children’s books that gave us many miles of reading as the library and thrift stores closed.
 
In that stack of books was Loving Ways: A Book About Love for Children by Susan Ross and Barbara Alexander. It’s very short, with only a handful of pages and a few journaling prompts at the end. I thought it would be nice to read with my five-year-old, but I never thought it would help shape my reentry into the COVID-19 world. 
 
As counties all over California begin to open and hustle through the phases, unread PDFs in their inboxes I’m sure, I ask myself, what should I rush back to? What should I choose for my family? It feels like a big responsibility.
 
Even though I have gig cancellations, and opportunity loss in the tens of thousands, my life feels very full. I have two young children who adore each other one moment and threaten life and limb the next, a new dog (more on that later), parents to visit, and returned-to, near-forgotten goals. Also, frankly, I don’t want to get sick. 
 
(As an aside, perhaps even a soapbox, I’ve been seeing a lot of social media posts that say ‘I wear a mask for you, not me’ and ‘I’m not afraid of the virus, I’m a good citizen.’ I ask, is it really so bad to be afraid of a virus that has killed 90,000 Americans at time of writing? Is our society so politicized by this pandemic, that we can’t be afraid of ill health, hospitalization and death? I’m afraid and I don’t feel lame about it, no matter how minimal my risk.)  
 
I am aware that my choice of what to go back to from my pre-shutdown life drips with privilege. Certainly, most Americans do not have a choice of taking work when it’s offered, of sending their kids to childcare, of isolating before seeing their senior parents. In fact, many Americans choose to go back to life because they found it’s unhealthy to stay home.
 
Thankfully, I have the space to think, plan, and choose. For me, the question of what to reabsorb into my life hasn’t been easy to answer. A few of the answers are downright painful, such as choosing not to allow Bear to return to preschool, a place where he was about to wear his first cap and gown.
 
In some ways, I know I’m overthinking this return to normal. That’s the teenager in me. Obsessing over possibilities, waiting for epiphanies, bored with anything that doesn’t provide immediate interest or reward. The adult in me, needing to approach life’s big debates a little more methodically, dug through the deepest tote in my children’s room, searching for Loving Ways, intuiting that a book about love could guide my way. 
 
According to Ross and Alexander, the types of love are: Romantic, Friendship, Family, Pets, Earth, Brotherly (Humanity), and Self. And so, flipping through the pages of paper-collage art, I craft my answer. 
 
As opening of life and business happens, I will put my husband first and seek his perspective on my choices. 
I will care for my body, mind, and spirit. 
I will be with those who help my being. 
I will play with and teach my children. 
I will see my closest family. 
I will make a warm home for the animals that bring us joy and keep the rodent population down. 
I will go outside and study and be thankful. 
I will work to bring joy in a trying time my fellow humans through my photography business. 
And that is all. 

In January of 2020, I worked tireless hours with the Amador Wedding Collaborative to put on the first ever Amador Wedding and Wine Tour Located in Sutter Creek at the Hotel Sutter. The event met and exceeded our expectations in terms of attendees and some of our vendors have confirmed bookings out of the event. 
 
Then, Kristi, Jenny and I quickly planned a follow up event at Simply Bubbles in February.  We all booked clients. We had Vendor Mixers scheduled, high-end styled shoots and were assisting others in planning their events. We talked about a large, Jam-style event for Amador County in the Summer of 2020. 
 
Then COVID-19 appeared in the United States and California shut down in a matter of days. We are now faced with the difficult realization that when our country, state, and county re-open the coronavirus that causes COVID-19 will still be present. Business is, if not forever changed, then long-term, severely different. 
 
In a matter of weeks, businesses have been made to reinvent. (The one that did it the most quickly, in my opinion is the restaurant business. They went from dine-in to take-out almost overnight.) I admit, I have been slower in my reinvention in terms of my business. The photographing itself hasn’t been difficult. I have had three shoots that have been successful at social distancing. I have two lenses that are wonderful for distances greater than 15’.
 
However, the scheduling is difficult. This is a sensitive time where we should be considerate of peoples’ health and I have not been promoting or advocating for business operations. Also, I have built my brand on events, documenting peoples’ milestones, and being in the community, which is different, now-a-days, with much of our lives taking place online. I am not a huge fan of hanging out online. Like almost everyone, I prefer to hang out in person. 

Still, I must find a way to produce quality photos, information and virtual events for people in the sea of “what’s happening virtually.” This is the current brainstorm for myself and the Amador Wedding Collaborative and I'm sure many businesses around the world. 
 
For now, I’ll be using my networks in the community to get back to social distancing shoots for families, seniors, couples, businesses, and clubs. It’s going to look different than it has in the past, but your photos don’t have to. They will be awesome. 

What about you? How are you reinventing yourself or your business during this time of online living? Comment below. 

*A note on the ring photos. These are all that I'll share from a social distancing elopement in April 2020. The couple prefered to keep their photos private, but I will say the afternoon was beautiful, woodsey, and golden in the evening with a glowing bride and handsome groom.  Comment below which photo you prefer. 

A very simple act of humanity brought me to tears this afternoon, and again as I write this. My friend Kristi told me about free lunches at the grade school. I am aware that this has been going on, (all over California), but so far we haven’t partaken. I thought it was just for kids who usually depend on school lunches (I mean my kids aren't even in school yet), but Kristi said I should try it; her kids look forward to it a couple times a week.  
 
I admit, I was looking for a break in the stay-home monotony, so I took the boys over to see if pre-kindergarden kids could partake. 
It was a drive-through. The kids stayed in the car and I, following directions, got out to ask the attendant if pre-k kids could receive a free lunch. She was standing well away from the table where a sign read, TAKE THE BAG YOU TOUCH.
 
“Of course,” she said, “they are students too.” 
 
So, I touched no other bags (though the temptation to riffle through and get the best ones was strong), and picked two random brown bag lunches, one each for my kids, with a yummy bag of Doritos on top. 
 
“Preschool kids get lunches too!” I said coming back to the car, but Bear had seen the bags in my hands, (a sack lunch to me, a treasure to him), and his face lit up with a type of joy I hadn’t seen since the stay home order was issued. This was a joy of feeling special in his community, like someone from the outside world cared for him, and loved him enough to make him a wonderful treat. 
 
And that is true. All over California, people who care about kids are making millions of sack lunches that means someone loves them, is looking forward to seeing them again, and wants them to be well until then. 

I rarely admit defeat. Failure is the kind of thing I keep to myself. I try to learn from failure, but I don't like to talk about it - failure has the tendency to be embarrassing, but nobody can win them all. 

A few days ago I went to visit a new dog. I did a social-distancing meeting with a rescue in the Central Valley. (The kids and Jesse stayed home to minimize the COVID risk.) There was a thunderstorm passing overhead and a foot of water in the corners of the parking lot. Piper, a pretty German Shorthair/Pit mix, with a nice coat and floppy ears, took no notice of the thunder and jumped out of the car. We played ball. She sat, she walked on a leash (not well I admit), but she jumped around happily and played in the water. 

I did a couple tests I thought my kids might put her through: pulled her ears, pinched her skin, dropped a loud bowl, took her food, took her toy, squeezed her paws. She passed them all with flying colors, so I brought her home. She was not here 24 hours.

The first evening was great. She was calm and we introduced the kids slowly and didn't let them bug her, just a couple pats and coos. She slept all night in her crate.  

The next morning we took Piper out for a walk in the snow and she had a great time flushing the quail out of a fallen oak branch. (There goes our wildlife I thought. Hopefully the cougars stay away too.) We came inside. She laid down and looked out the window. She was very happy... until we gave her a bed. She nipped at Graham when he touched the corner of her bed. He'd just given her a treat so, maybe thought he had a treat. For the next hour, I watched her very closely.

When Graham or Bear walked by she would turn her head away and lay her ears back. It was very subtle, but she wasn't comfortable. I have to tell you, my children were not even acting like themselves. There was no screaming, no gleeful nude running, no towing one another around with a towel, or traipsing around with a sheet over their head, no wrestling or throwing pillows. Our house was as calm as it ever gets, and still Piper was feeling uncomfortable. 

I decided we'd all better go for a walk. I dressed the kids in their snow gear. I put Piper on a leash. We went outside. Bear grabbed his dump truck and drove it across the gravel. Piper freaked, barked and hid behind me. I could feel her breath on my leg and I nearly had a heart attack. We went into the back yard. Bear went down the slide. She barked at him again. Not a playful bark. She was terrified to a degree that I was not trained or willing to work with. My kids were scared too. 

Broken hearted, for the friendship that could have been, I called the rescue and returned Piper two hours later. 

Somehow, I should make a positive experience of this. I think the best thing, is to let this roll off my back. I was assured that Piper was good with kids, and I went off my assessment and that of the rescue. Aside from taking the kids with me, what else could have been done? I certainly feel lame for brining home the wrong dog. 

I think a lot of my friends in business, and friends homeschooling, and friends who are bored and lonely, are kind of grappling with their own barking dog right now. There is a lot of pressure to perform, to achieve, to meet the moment, to become new right now, to be productive, start something and grow, ect. And if they aren't doing something major, or putting something out there, or changing their business model, or the kids are getting too much screen time, they feel bad, like a failure. 

I say, to hell with that. Relax. Let some of this free time roll off your back. It's not necessarily what we do to meet this moment, aside from staying connected with friends and family virtually, but what we'll do when this settles. How will we rebuild? How will we reconnect. What lessons about ourselves have we learned and what can we employ towards a better future? This is more a time for reflection than a time for productivity. So, give yourself a break and I will too.