Archive for February 9th, 2012

β€œIt’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,’ says the White Queen to Alice.”
― Lewis Carroll ―

I spent much of today grabbing the odd photograph here and there as I flitted between meetings. At the car park near work was a beautiful blue car (no idea what kind of car because I never know these things!) so I took a shot of that. And then on the way home a double decker bus had broken down causing traffic jams so I snuck a shot in there. I thought I’d wing it with those and then I walked in the door to find my Grandparents sitting at the Dining room table surrounded by photos. Et Voila. Todays post was born!



Both of my grandparents have an interesting past. However my Grandfather’s memoirs are especially intriguing as he used to be a detective with the local police. Some of the pictures unearthed in the suitcase they had brought over included those taken at work events and dinners. Others were of my Uncles and my Mum when they were children…

The photographs, whilst dated, were still incredibly clear and there was barely any signs of aging. In fact the only tell-tale factor of age was the group of people sat around the table – clearly a lot older than the pictures showed them to be! (P.S Love you mum!)

Father and daughter figured out who was who together (as pictured above my Mother and my Grandfather). Actually it was really surprising how much a photo jogs a thousand memories all of a sudden and indeed how much someone can remember.

So I snapped away for a bit – thinking that it would be quite nice to capture a memory of looking back at the memories. I marvelled at the distinct change in technology. Most of the pictures of my Grandparents were sepia or black and white and indeed some of my uncles and Mum were too.

Above is a shot of my Grandfather and a colleague examining a crime scene during the policing days. The incident here was a fire which sadly killed a baby. The memories that my Grandad has contained don’t come forth all that regularly, but with the photos as a prompt they certainly started to spill out.

The above is a letter that my Mother wrote to her parents probably around forty five years ago seeking approval at her hand writing!Oh and the lovely blue car? I have to share that! And my not-quite-as-lovely blue car in the reflection…

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