It's so much fun playing with it and learning new things.
This week I am learning about the F- stop and what it means to my camera. Even though I don't really understand what it means. . . I understand how to make the back ground in my photos fuzzy . . .and really that's all I want. . . this week. I'll get the rest sooner or later. . . I hope.
So, what does F-stop mean??? Uhhh, well it has to do with aperture. So, the lower your f-stop number is the more out of focus your back ground becomes. I know that much is true. You should also have your camera set on aperture mode or A when you want this effect.
So, . . . I think all this means - the wider the eye of the lens opens - the lower the f-stop goes - meaning more light comes into the eye of the camera. Or all this might mean - the lower with the f-stop the less light goes in to the eye of the camera. . . Mmmm, I have to study it more. . .don't take my word for it.
You should look it up and tell me - as you can tell, I find it all very confusing.
I just know: I really, really LOVE the camera and I love the effect I get when the F-stop number is low.
It has been nearly two months now since my oldest has gone away to college.
Nearly two months to the day when I was dreading that day we were to pile in the car and drive 1000 miles to a little town called Atchison, Kansas. I tried hard not to cry the whole way. . . but you know what? Even though I am not a crier. . . I just couldn't help it.
Two months later, I still really miss him. Even though, the house is just a little quieter: I have the other three to keep me going - this home of ours is still pretty noisy, NOT at all much neater. . . or much cleaner.
Tonight I'm on my way to Atlanta to pick him up for spring break and I can't think of much else. I can't seem to keep my eyes off the clock or get things tightied up around here. Today even though I really care about the mess I just can't seem to get it done. I just keep thinking he's coming home and I have to get on the road in time to get him. I hope I don't cry when I see him . . . but you know what? Even though I really am not a crier, I am afraid I might. I will be so happy to see him I think I just might.