It’s all Mr Shaggy’s fault.

Of course, it is. Isn’t that the way life works?

No, this time it’s true. Mr Shaggy made a grave mistake when he bought me my first camera. He didn’t know what he was in for.

Neither did I, to tell the truth.

It didn’t take long to become a camera-crazed she-beast who lurked beside the kitchen windows waiting for an innocent birdy to come along.

The paparazzi pale in comparison to me.

That’s where the visual recording of life at Shaggy Creek began. I decided I wanted to record which people (furry or feathered) were here during which seasons. I mean, that’s a logical thing to do, right?

It went downhill from there.

What I lack in photography skills I make up with passion. That’s why our Facebook and Instagram pages are groaning under the weight of our posts. On my personal Facebook page, I became known as the “Bird Butt” lady because the little stinkers wouldn’t sit still long enough for me to get a good shot.

But occasionally I fluke a decent photo, even if it is a butt shot.