"You'll take a picture of anything won't you," my sister insinuated, more than she asked.
"Why yes," I replied, "if I find it interesting, I certainly will."
And I do, no matter how weird it might seem to someone else, if something catches my eye, I'll end up with a picture or two (or ten) of it.
You can only imagine the thousands of images I have collected in my life. And I can't describe to you what a pleasure it is to relive the memories, over and over again, every time I see them.
I was particularly happy to find this image and others of the same batch. I hadn't realized that I printed them and overjoyed to discover that I had.
You see, a couple of years ago I had a hard drive fail on me. It contained six years of my life's memories on it, the majority of which were personal, treasured images. Pictures of people no longer with us; years of my oldest grandson growing up and new grandchildren's first pics; family holidays and get togethers; nieces and nephews.
You get the idea. Really, really, keepsake type images.
I cried when that drive failed. Seriously, I sobbed. I was devastated. Finding out that it would cost me hundreds and hundreds of dollars to even attempt to recover the images from the drive meant it likely wasn't going to happen any time soon, if ever, and so all those keepsakes were just...gone.
But then I found this batch, printed and tucked away in a box, the originals laying dormant on that failed drive.
I was ecstatic to find this fun time between cousins; my grandson and nieces. Days like this that started with great intentions and aspirations of youth.....
and developed into more fun that anyone could possibly have imagined.
It all started innocently enough. Aunt Marcy let the littles go into her garage and bring out buckets, scoops, and shovels to dig around in her fire pit. Next best thing to a sandbox, right?
And in the beginning, it was just a couple of cups of water, right?
Oh yeah. Until Aunt Marcy turned on the hose that is. How cool is that when you're like five or six?
Such good memories. They had such a fantiastic time doing nothing more that playing in the mud.
I love mud.
Now, most people hang nice, clean, well dressed pics of their kids on their walls.
But this, this, is what I printed on canvas to hang in my dining room. It's one of my all time favorite images, ever. And I thought it was the only surviving shot, until my recent discovery.
I mean, who wouldn't enjoy seeing kids having this much fun? I would honestly rather see pics of kids in their "element", and relive those memories, than to have a bunch of decked out, starched looking shots with fake smiles, and posing like fashion models.
Images of kids having the time of their lives, that's what it's all about. Well, it is for me anyway.
But hey, not for Granny. She didn't think so much of the mud play. She never does. I have been trying to convince her for 50 years that it a simple pleasure in life but she's not buying it. And I have seen this look as her argument for as many years.
The smug look of her not budging; her not buying into how fun it is, 'cause she hates it. And to her, it's gross. And I love to tease her about it. And she loves to not budge.
Granny just don't like mud. Nope. Not at all.
"You're not really going to let them dig in that fire pit are you? And pour water in it it with that hose, are you?" she asked.
"You betcha we are, Sally." (At this point you can see her skin crawling)
She watches all she can stand and then it's over for Sally.
"Well," she says, "it's time for me to go home."
And off she went. Just like that. The mud was just too much for her. (Love you Momma :-) )
And the fun continued.
Nobody (but Granny) wanted to go home even after hours of hard play, digging, hauling of buckets, soggy clothes, and wrinkled fingers.
Zoey can lay it on thick too. How cute is that muddy pout?
I am so thankful to have found these images. So thankful that they are not lost to me forever. All my memories from that day, preserved, to enjoy over and over again.