I've been scanning in my collection of old photos this week. Archie took a sudden rush of blood to the head and decided to paint three rooms of our house and my contribution to the cause is to reduce the amount of stuff that gets returned into them. I've been taking photos since I was about eight using everything from my first Poloroid - a Christmas present from the parents who knew I had no patience - to my dad's SLR, and these days the joys of digital. There are literally hundreds of pictures and I decided to sort them out and scan them. It has been great seeing the pile reduce as I chuck out blurry landscapes and pictures of people whose names I can't remember, but it has also been a melancholy task. Lots of thinking to do. Shall I keep pictures of people I once cared about but who hurt me? How do I feel about seeing images of people I loved who have died but are now smiling out at me from my computer screen? One of the most poignant things is to see photos of my younger self, especially in my teens and early twenties, absolutely stuffed with confidence and the knowledge that I was unique and special and bound for greater things. I wish I'd bottled those feelings so that I could have a sniff of them now and then when my grown up confidence deserts me.
On the upside, I met a dead bat! We were hanging out with Sylvia the jeweller and her beasties on Saturday night and had just eaten a glorious meal of lasagne ( with hand made pasta ) and lemon surprise pudding. As we lay about with groaning tummies, a strange noise was heard on the stairs. It was Original Puss and she was carrying a bat. Luckily for us, if not for the bat, it was already dead. So, as you do in the middle of a dinner party, we had a good look at the body.
The bat was a Soprano Pipistrelle and most likely a youngster just learning to fly. His wings were incredibly tough but soft, like suede. Tiny little feet and beautiful ears. Not vampirish at all. Rangercraig who was also at the dinner party took the bat home to be pinned and displayed at the Ranger Centre for other folk to admire. Beats after dinner mints anyday!
7 comments:
Oh Magnusmog!
Maybe I should feel horrified by seeing that picture but really I think we were the bees knees!
I understand the mixed emotions you get from looking at the old pictures .Sometimes, I think I'd like to do a little time travelling just to capture certain moments to appreciate them more.
It saddens me to think that you don't know how special and individual you STILL are!
What a lovely little bat. Possibly the softest fur I have ever felt was on a bat - gorgeous russet red and soft, soft, soft. I have a bat house kit I keep meaning to put together and hang in my garden.
Aww shucks Miss F. I know I'm still special. Old, but special!!
My husband would freak out if he saw that bat! He is absolutley terrified of them--even the stuffed toy or photo versions:)
I recently went through all of my mom's photo albums and moved everything to photo boxes. It was a sad/funny/moving experience.
Magnusmog, I can't believe the great photos I've been able to see and the news I've been able to read. It's been a long time since we've talked but I've been kept up to date by you know who. One day I hope to have my own blog (probably a long time away but never mind!) but in the mean time I will be logging on to read the latest...........
Hey, you're not as old as me so don't worry!!
Actually I found a picture of you today taken on Christmas day 1977 - the day you got that Poloroid camera. I think you are taking a picture of me as I am taking a picture of you. I also have scans of another two or three that look to be taken the same day. As I remember the Poloroid did not last long, the pics didn't need developing, but the film was horribly expensive for the time. Do you have copies of the pics I'm thinking of?
I love the bat photo. I'm very fond of them, so it's a pity that we have to worry about rabies here and I have to keep telling people to get them tested when they get into the house.
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