I spent an afternoon last week with Mom, expunging one of the many closets in my childhood home. The move to her new apartment is getting closer (2nd week in January) and a sense of urgency is setting in to get things distributed before the holidays. I left with two boxes of stuff for Goodwill and a box of "keepers," such as art pottery, copper pieces and an album of my baby pictures.
As the first-born, there are a LOT of pictures of me, much to the dismay of my baby sister, Number 5. (Photos of her as a child are almost non-existent, poor thing.) When I was an infant, my dad was stationed at an Air Force base in Sacramento. My mom had a camera and a LOT of time on her hands.
I am thrilled to have the pictures, although after I scan and catalog them, I doubt I'll even look at them again...
until I have grandchildren, of course!
|Oh, to have that little bottom again.|
|Babies, both of us.|
|Check out Dad's death grip on my little arm. Classic.|