So while we don’t post as much as we’d like to, it’s not because we have not been busy.
We’re gearing up—literally—and playing the ultimate game of catch-up, both physically and mentally.
The irony is that most of our days are spent marketing for someone else’s business while trying to restart our own.
The days are short and the nights are long.
Our workday starts with butts in seats around 7 or 7:30 a.m.
Most days we don’t take a lunch break.
Our desk at work has become our unofficial second home.
If a lunch break happens, it’s only because we absolutely can’t stand it anymore and have to step away from the screen. We walk—an hour through the old neighborhood—to clear our heads and reorganize the constant spin cycle of thoughts. Between kid, work, an elderly parent, managing hopes and dreams, and being mildly irritated by the lack of time surrounding it all, this means we’re editing footage or typing our blog posts at 10 or 11 p.m. knowing we’ll be up again at 5:45.
Every day the rhythm is the same—almost to the point of being droll.
The time we do have for creating, organizing, writing, rewriting, editing, and finally posting means we’ve handled the same piece of content at least a half-dozen times.
We can’t help it; we have to feel and work it out before hitting publish.
We ask ChatGPT a lot of things—mostly if there’s a better workflow—and it turns out there’s not. Work is work, is work.
Part of the problem is that we get lost in the process, but it’s not truly a problem because the truth is: 90 percent of everything is process, 10 percent is execution.
So right now, we’re in the boring, droll, mind-numbing phase of setting up.
And setting up, we are.
About seven years ago we made the mistake of selling our Sony A7 III, which, as it turns out, is still a workhorse of a camera for all kinds of professionals. Unfortunately (and fortunately), it still holds enough retail value to make rebuilding a kit a pricey investment—especially once we start nerding out about the Tamron (Tamron 28–75mm f/2.8 Di III VXD G2) lens we’ll eventually buy.
After many late nights and YouTube deep dives, we’re thinking about going back to the Sony RX1R II—because, as they say, the best camera you’ll ever use is the one you actually pick up. For a point-and-shoot, the images are stunning. The Zeiss lens gives each photograph that indelible depth and texture, the way prints on Fujifilm Pro 400H did back in the day—soft color, just enough grain, that tactile “step-into-the-frame” quality. It’s an incredible little powerhouse. And yes, in a dream world, we’d have both.
Yeah, ya heard me we would own both cameras.
All in due time, I guess.
Then there’s the final piece of the puzzle—the one I can’t decide comes next or last—the camera or the drone. The drone would be the DJI Mini 4 Pro. Both a rare birds and both are in extremely limited supply right now, and both are due to very different reasons.
For the drone: yeah, I know they just released the Mini 5 Pro, but A) it’s out of budget and B) after all the reading, watching, and stalking eBay for specs and price comparisons, the Mini 4 Pro wins. DJI got it right the first time when they enhanced the features from the Mini Pro 3.
Did I mention I’m also working on my Part 107?
While Mini Pro 4 may not be the drone for it, you have to start somewhere.
And hello—side hustle that pays for itself.
You’re probably wondering at this point how does this all fit?
Well friends, we’re building the ultimate kit tailored to the kind of content we want to capture now and later—and, honestly, because we’re a sucker for the look and feel of timeless, classic shots with a modern twist. I want documentary-style photographs with the creamery texture, depth, and crispness paired with today’s 61 MP cameras and 60 fps videos.
As the kids say, we’re creating our ultimate stack, a pro-level kit at a (mostly) entry-level price. And it all started because of the GoPro Hero 13.
We even surprised ourselves buying this gear after avoiding it for so damn long. In a way, we’re glad we waited. The tech, the stability, everything is where it should be and honestly the world has a way of putting you exactly where you need to be, at the moment you’re ready for it, with the tools you’re finally prepared to use.
So yeah—maybe it’s nerdy, maybe it’s boring to anyone who doesn’t love cameras, photography, or the history of film and how it’s shaped every story we tell—from news to social media to AI-generated everything. And that’s okay.
Because maybe this is where Southern Larder goes next—back to the deep love of documenting life in all its fantastical, ordinary, and terrible ways.
Back to the click of a shutter, the hum of a hard drive, the quiet proof that we’re still here, framing the chaos one photo at a time.