Life has a habit of side swiping you when you are least expecting it.
I thought this when two large envelopes were delivered to the cottage by post yesterday.
They contained a hundred or so photographs
Photographs from my twenties.
The photographs had been found a while ago by the owner of my old home in Sheffield, which was a large warm natured Victorian terrace on Wynyard Road in Hillsborough.
They had been tucked under a built in seat, probably in the mid 90s, and then presumed lost in the subsequent move.
Recently I had wondered if my ex husband had taken them by accident when we separated but zi had been wrong. The photographs were handed over to my former neighbour who is luckily still one of my best friends.
Yesterday he had posted them back to me.
Images of nursing friends and bank clerk mates, of family parties and CB “ eyeballs”
Proof of the parachute jump I did in my brother’s rally suit at the age of 22. Old girlfriends toasting happy days with Pernod , years before I even thought I was gay.
Amid the snapshots there were around 20 professional looking black and white prints 10 x 6 inches in size and all showboating family and fiends . These were all taken before 1989 by Ian Parry
Ian was a dear friend and a talented newspaper photographer who was killed smuggling his wartime photos out of Ceausescu’s Romania on a Russian Cargo plane
I sorted through the photographs and picked several out which I decided I will frame and give out as Christmas gifts. A lovely portrait of my brother in law and his mother in Evening wear. A family drinks party with my brother laughing.
Photographs that need to be seen and not hidden away under a seat in an old Victorian house
My thoughts are with Pat, The Weaver Of Grass who is in hospital at the moment.
Wishing her a speedy recovery
I’m back on night shifts ....
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/3mfjL5d
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