We’re culling about 17,000 digital photos. Thumb drive archives to the safe. We’ll keep some selected copies close at hand. And start another 12 years.
Time machine: ourselves through 12 years.
A cat named Fish: his name now marks a rock in our backyard. Our current cat, Hippy, fresh from the pound. Right away, she climbed a tree and needed rescue.
Junior’s predecessor tree: an ice storm took off a major branch. Downside: shock and grief. Upside: no more horseshoe hazard. Photos up and down.
Our library/office: two 10-foot walls, one 8-foot wall, and one 4-foot wall, all floor to ceiling full of books, some double-stacked. Two 4-box Fed-Ex shipments, three truckloads to the Friends of the Library. (They probably got tired of seeing us that summer!) Thirty books remain to tell the tale in what is now an art studio, with easels, brushes and works in progress far and wide.
Our old kitchen, and its silly 23-inch-wide opening to the livingroom. The wall came down, and we replaced it up top with an 8-inch by 8-inch timber from an 1800s Pennsylvania barn, braced on the sides by similar timbers from an old Ohio barn. In 12 years, we’ve gutted the house. Photogenic.
If we knew then what we know now, we’d know something different now, and still wish we knew then what we know now.
Time flies when yer having fun.