It was beautifully hand-crafted with smiles and a lattice top, just the kind of apple pie to make any southern woman proud. Before shoving it in the oven, Thais and I, as is our habit, staged the flour strewn wooden table top for a photo. But to my delayed horror, the opaque vase on which I had propped my dear dinky camera was neither stable nor empty. I was still smiling as I sealed the only slightly wet appareil-photo in a bag with rice. Two days later, the buttons respond but every photo comes out black. My smile wavers.

In honor of the departure of my little blue camera, there are no photos in this post.