KELLY KOZIOL photography

So I don’t procrastinate in general, not really, I’m decisive, I’m quick on my feet, I’m a go getter, or so I’m told Except for my New Year’s resolution this year, I promised myself, up down and sideways that I’d blog… like with words and not just photos. I follow some great photographers, who have such funny, clever ingenious things to say to go along with their great photos, which I admire so much! But I always felt like it was corny, or odd if I actually posted w.o.r.d.s. If I’m being really honest, I was just plain intimidated.  How silly of me! Everyone has to start somewhere!

So here it is my first long winded, barely edited for grammar and spelling blog post of 2012. I’m writing this to also introduce my super fancy fantastic made over blogsite, which will become my only site shortly. Isn’t it pretty!? The folks at Intothedarkroom are absolutely FABULOUS! I love having a website/blogsite/twittersite/google site and all that, but for the sake of time and my sanity, they all must come together in place… and that place is going to be HERE.

& because no blog post is worth it’s salt without a photo:

Dear Dad,

I spent the day with you today, and forgot to thank you for spending Father’s Day with me. Which made me think of all the things I probably forget to thank you for, and all the things I should have thanked you for along the way. So here goes.

Thank you Dad for teaching me to check my oil, and asking me 356,578 over the past ten years whether or not I checked the oil in my car lately. Thank you for explaining how to change my oil without making me actually do it, you know me well enough to know I have limits. Thank you for teaching me how to shoot a gun, ride a horse, skip a rock, drive a stick shift,  and probably swim, although I can’t remember learning, my best guess is you threw me in the river with water wings… sink or swim kiddo.

Thank you for letting me sleep in during summer breaks, teaching me what hard work was, and attempting to teach me how to hunt… although god knows you realized quickly that getting up at the you know what of dawn, focusing on the task at hand (aka finding deer) and walking quietly through the woods, did not come naturally to me.

Thank you Dad for silently retrieving a wet towel the first time you thought I was wearing too much makeup, lesson learned, nobody likes a hussy. Thank you for inspiring me to be healthy, to be active and for not commenting on my baby fat when I was going through my super awkward teenage years. Thanks for my baby brother, I don’t think either of us would have survived another girl.

Thank you for pushing my buttons on purpose, nobody can get me madder faster than you do, but it taught me early to draw a clear line in the sand with people, or they will draw it for you.

Thank you Dad for never asking me about boys, or bringing up my broken heart when I sometimes so obviously wear it on my sleeve. I know you think I’m too sensitive, you’ve told me this many times, but there never been a time I’ve appreciated your knack for companionable silence more.

Love you Dad