Old photos
Monday, January 24th, 2011 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caddymanOver the past few months Furtle has been scanning old photos on and off and she finished the process yesterday afternoon. She had already scanned her own collection some time back, but they did not survive the death of her external drive. This time they are on her computer, two memory sticks and from tonight, I shall have them burnt onto a DVD. Multiple backups are cool.
I have never been much of a photographer in any sense of the word. Until the advent of affordable and portable digital cameras, I would take a roll of pictures here and there on an instamatic and then get them developed months or years later, if at all. So my collection of pictures occurs in staccato busts over a thirty year period. I have a few from home, when home was Telford, a few from my college days, fewer from the 80s when I first came to London, a burst of enthusiasm in the mid and late 90s from various widely separated holidays and then an increasingly large number of pointless snaps of just about anything as the 2000s progress.
I had forgotten the existence of some of the pictures and rue the loss of others. Particularly I look back and see there are virtually no pictures of Dad, and none whatsoever of my grandparents. I have a number of Mum, though, which is good. Next time I am back in Shropshire, I shall have to raid Mum’s collection and grab a couple or three for scanning.
I did find this picture though, of Yours Truly aged around 18 or 19 toiling through the snow to the pub. Oh yes, neither wind nor rain nor deep snow, shall keep me from my appointed pint.
As I recall, the snow had come down thick and heavy – it would have been the winter of 1977-78. It came down so fast and thick that it brought the power lines down and after sitting in candle light for a couple of hours with the folks, I decided to go and find my best mate, Phil and we struck out for the Bird in Hand up on the Cockshutt, a wooded and relatively wild area up the hill from where we lived.
The snow was rather deeper than we had imagined and had drifted somewhat. But the pub was open.
I have never been much of a photographer in any sense of the word. Until the advent of affordable and portable digital cameras, I would take a roll of pictures here and there on an instamatic and then get them developed months or years later, if at all. So my collection of pictures occurs in staccato busts over a thirty year period. I have a few from home, when home was Telford, a few from my college days, fewer from the 80s when I first came to London, a burst of enthusiasm in the mid and late 90s from various widely separated holidays and then an increasingly large number of pointless snaps of just about anything as the 2000s progress.
I had forgotten the existence of some of the pictures and rue the loss of others. Particularly I look back and see there are virtually no pictures of Dad, and none whatsoever of my grandparents. I have a number of Mum, though, which is good. Next time I am back in Shropshire, I shall have to raid Mum’s collection and grab a couple or three for scanning.
I did find this picture though, of Yours Truly aged around 18 or 19 toiling through the snow to the pub. Oh yes, neither wind nor rain nor deep snow, shall keep me from my appointed pint.
As I recall, the snow had come down thick and heavy – it would have been the winter of 1977-78. It came down so fast and thick that it brought the power lines down and after sitting in candle light for a couple of hours with the folks, I decided to go and find my best mate, Phil and we struck out for the Bird in Hand up on the Cockshutt, a wooded and relatively wild area up the hill from where we lived.
The snow was rather deeper than we had imagined and had drifted somewhat. But the pub was open.