After I finished driving Mom and Dad around looking for sleeper sofas this morning, I raided her cupboards looking for old cookie sheets and other old baking pans she wasn't going to take with her when they moved. We found some old cake pans, a Dutch oven that I had to take because I have a childhood memory of Mom stewing beef tongue in the pot and making the tongue talk to Julia and me. We were both appropriately horrified and refused to eat it. So, the Dutch oven came home with me this afternoon, if only for memory sake.
I've been eyeballing the light in the garage now for a couple days, remembering the portraits I took of the kids in there last summer and wondering if the same beautiful light would work with food. I also really like the floor of our garage, as crazy as it sounds, the grunginess that all garage floors take on after family cars and motorcycles have lived in it for a good 12 years.
I think the floor works pretty well for a background for the new props, don't you think? And the light was everything I had hoped it be.
Of course, my trusty photo assistant had to come out and supervise the entire operation.
She got a handful of HoneyNut Cheerios for her trouble.