This week, I embarked on what I have been calling the Great Photo Project of 2005. While I never made a great accountant, there are certain qualities about me that could be considered, well, ANAL. However, I would argue that I really prefer things to be organized simply because I am ultimately LAZY - I hate to search for things. If they are organized, there is no searching. See my point? Anyway, this Project consisted of me buying a bare minimum of scrapbooking supplies (album, adhesive and blank pages), then sorting through all my loose photos hanging out in drawers, boxes, etc. I loosely organized them chronologically (i.e. grade school, junior high, high school, college, adult) and I am sticking them on blank pages to put in the album. I just want the things in a book - I am not doing fancy cut-outs! REAL scrapbooking is not for the weak of heart, folks and I know my personality would implode if I were to ever attempt such a hobby. I like my hobbies to be the relaxing sort - like knitting or reading. Anyway, I came across a few photos that seemed pertinent, somehow. Thought I would share.
Why do NOW, what you can do NEVER?
When I first came across this photo, I thought “Aw, there is me with my first kitty EVER, MaryAnn. Upon closer observation, I realized something. That was the infamous “franklin stove” in the background! That stove lived with us in no less than FOUR houses, yet was never hooked up and never had a fire built in it. I KID YOU NOT. My parents have this incredible propensity to just not get things done - they still procrastinate horribly on such projects and tend to let things fall apart a bit before they fix them. This scarred me and I try very hard now to be a good homeowner and not let things get so bad.
Born to be Wild.....
This was my first bike ever! Judging from the house the pic was taken (the beauty of having lived in so many houses as a child, it was relatively easily to date most of the photos), I was about 5-6 years old when this photo was taken. I remember getting the bike and the thrill of learning to ride it. If you can learn how to ride a bike on a GRAVEL road, you are ONE TOUGH KID, let me tell you. I remember the thrill of being able to get to places faster. What is shocking to me now, is that even at such a young age, I will still running around the neighborhood - except in this case, each neighbor owned a minimum of 15-20 acres. When I drive through that area now, I can’t believe my parents let me go that far from our house unattended. Granted, child molesters weren’t lurking in every corner back in the mid=1970s, but the copperheads and rattlers certainly were. Anyway, the picture was a stark reminder of how independent I was, even at such a young age.
Home Beautiful? How about just Home?
Ah, Christmas. Every Christmas was SO exciting. We would traipse through our own property and select the perfect tree. It was such a magical time and I was certain we surely had what was the most beautiful tree in all of Kansas. Um, look closely at that picture. How delusional could a 6 year old be? In my defense, I don’t think I knew better. My parents were hippies - our house was littered with macrame for cryin’ out loud! For the record, my dad STILL gets the ugly ass trees and declares them to be the best ever. This is why, as hard as I try, my house will never be a showcase. It’s just not in my genes.
Years of Cosmo Rehab STILL didn't help......
In my 20s, I read Cosmopolitan faithfully. Pictures like this should have made me realize I was just wasting my money. There was no hope. In the 80s, I would desperately try to follow every fashion trend and would look terribly ridiculous. Torn sweatshirt? I just looked like a homeless person. Spiral perm? Hair would never take them and I would end up with silly looking waves. Finally, by my late 20s, the most I learned from Sex and the City was that while the magazine was useless for the likes of me, the martini was mighty tasty.
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