How I'm Still Married, I'll Never Know

There seems to be an unwritten rule that I always have to be the one holding the camera. Maybe this stems from the unwritten rule that I always have to give Mike shit whenever he tries to take a picture. The words "You're doing it wrong!" just seem to fly out of my mouth before he's even opened the shutter.

"You're holding the camera too low!"

"You're holding it too high!"

"You're too far away!"

"You're too close!"

"Don't take it with the sun behind me because you won't see my face!"

"Don't take it now! The sun is in my eyes and I'll be squinting!"

And after Mike has taken the picture, of course I have to look at it and make sure it's okay. Hence the reason Mike normally just lets out a loud sigh, hands the camera to me and tells me to take it myself. Of myself. Which is sometimes tough to do if I want a full length shot, but I somehow seem to manage.

Mike is, of course, very adept with the camera (maybe it's just my constant hovering and critiquing that make his shots come out less than adequate (in my mind) when I'm around). Proof and point: these following beauties that Mike has captured over the years during his annual fishing trip with his brother. I can't recall the exact locations of each, but they are all from Northern Saskatchewan in the middle of October. My favourite pic is the last one.