Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Old photos

Y'see, my brother was looking for an old photo. "You know, that one with the Dutch girls (that would be Danielle and Jill, who visited on a school exchange program) and Junior being really short." I knew exactly the one he meant. I directed him to the shoeboxes in the garage where I'd not only stored old photos, but in a fit of Monica-ness, actually labelled with the appropriate year (just the boxes, I didn't label the photos. Although I did label the wallets they came back from the developer in). But, as you can see, in the past I was hella geeky!

This is the one Rich was looking for. From the left: his best friend (then and now) Dan Oakley, Rich, Alex "Junior" Oakley, Danielle Genders, Jill Pisters, me. Yep, me. Reckon I was about 13 or 14 there. Youch.

While I was looking through the photos (they're like Pringles: once you pop, you just can't stop), I found a lovely one of the family when we celebrated my nannan's 50th wedding anniversary. My granddad actually died about twenty years before this, but that didn't stop my nannan having a party. That's her at the front, second from right. I'm at the back, second from left. I'd probably have been about fourteen there, I think. See how tall I am? In the next three years, I grew to the height of my uncle, on my left. And then, thank God, I stopped.

When Sugar and Spike were babies I took zillions of pictures. They're all safely stowed here on my computer, and on my backup old computer, and on a disc. But when Tinker and Willow were babies, I was six, and there was no such thing as a digital camera. I reckon the one we used back then had a separate flashbulb. but anyway, look at these two. If I thought S&S could be gratuitously cute, I'd forgotten about the originals...

Here's Tinker again, under his own parasol (I have another one of Willow in the same place). All the digital pictures I have of him are as an old man, and at the end he was really bony, his fur all matted. But he was (as TS Eliot said), in his youth, quite the smartest of cats. Look at the gloss on his fur! He was the original Gorgeous Boy, a title he passed on to Spike, who grew into it beautifully.

You know I said I was tall? Well, look at me outside this tent...okay, it was a kid's play tent, but still. Check out my sweater, though: Crazy Cat. I'm amazed I didn't write 'Lady' on it...

Yet more proof I knew how it was going to end. In case you can't read the caption on my nightshirt, it says 'When I grow up, I want to be a cat'. 'Nuff said.

Any Harry Enfield fans out there? Caption this "Poor Lulu." Actually, there's another one, where Rich is beaming at the camera and I'm bawling my eyes out. I guess we can call that the 'after' shot.

This is how I remember family holidays. What you can't see is that, outside the little world of the parasol and the windbreaker, it was actually raining. My dad (captured in a series of blackmail-worthy photos) was actually wearing a wetsuit and surfing, or trying to at any rate. The three of us, plus Honey, huddled up for warmth. English seaside holidays, huh? Can't beat 'em.

I want to show this one to Pepper. See, I'm going to say to her, see how nicely Honey got along with the cats? This one is Candy, our little abused baby, who was terrified of pretty much everything. But Honey, daft as an old brush and twice as useless, was impossible to be frightened of.

I so want to title this picture 'Young Dr Doolittle', but I don't expect my brother will thank me for it.

Today, I realised as I looked at the date, would have been Meu's 16th birthday. She died four years ago, nearly five. She wasn't halfway old enough. Here she is, enjoying her favourite activity.

And here enjoying her second--and showing off the belly she got from the first. Love you, sweetheart. Miss you.

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