Shoebox Sundays

I got this fabulous idea from Stephanie, who sometimes posts old family photographs (even though hers usually appear as part of her Self-Portrait Tuesday series, so they inevitably tend to include her, but still, that's where I got the idea from).

A year ago, as part of a massive (still unfinished) spring-cleaning spree, I finally went through the two large crammed cupboards that contained all the photographs amassed over the years, and threw away anything not deemed worthy of keeping. I now have one small-size shoebox. It was an exhilarating feeling, to have distilled the essence of life past in this manner, and the nicest thing was that I started looking at old photographs again, on a regular basis, which I hadn't done in ages, due to feeling terribly daunted by the two crammed cupboards.

I think the time has come to share, so as of today, Sundays will be 'Shoebox' Days.

If anyone who knew me at anytime has any objections, they may voice them. Voicing is good. Voicing is really good.

For the first instalment, one of my personal classics: this must be 1986-1987?, the place is some B&B in England (you can tell, can't you!), so it must be one of the summers we spent driving around the UK, the three of us, my mum (the nose), Michael (those of you who claim Isabelle does not resemble her uncle, please take a moment to reconsider) and I. In our dark-blue Golf, with my imaginary horse, Cocotte, running alongside the car. I took this picture early in the morning (well, before 10 am...), always a very frustrating time for me, because of waking up early and being much to shy to go out on my own. I usually ended up staring them down until they woke up (Marc says I still do that) (you know, Bridget Jones style...), which was not appreciated... Or I read books (no wonder I'd read so many by the time I hit secondary school...). Anyway, on this day, I took a picture. Quite a good picture, retrospectively.Shoebox Sunday_