Photo - 4-4-4

I've just been tagged by Soilman to show you the 4th photo from my 4th photo folder (and then tag 4 more people), which in my case contains scanned in pictures from my childhood (I'm keeper of the family archive so it goes back decades if not centuries).


So here it is. This is a small polaroid which must have been taken by another parent as we never had a polaroid camera. They seemed like magic when they came out, didn't they? It's a birthday party and I'm pretty sure it's one of mine as the others in the picture are mostly from my school year. I'm also pretty sure it'll be one of the parties I shared with Kristina Home, a best friend then, whose birthday was three days before mine. I'm guessing it's November 1973. It was taken in our sitting room at Lancaster Park, Morpeth and you can see the horribly 70s rush matting on the floor. Actually we were the only people I knew with that kind of flooring - the hippies of the estate who played guitars and listened to jazz and had beards (well my father did).

Left to right (and we're really testing my memory here) at the back, we have Nicola Brown, me, Samantha Baker, Claire Harrison and my sister, Sisi (posing as always!). Front l-r, Alison Sinton, Kristina, Joanna Brown and Lesley I-can't-remember-her-surname.

Now, this picture has such poignancy. We lost touch with Claire as she went to high school in a different town, but I think she died in a motorcycle accident in her late teens. My sister died just over a year ago. I had lost touch with everyone in the picture until this summer when I saw Nicola and Joanna again when they came to the celebration party we held in memory of Sisi. It was a very emotional meeting, and wonderful to see them again. So I shall take the liberty of adding another picture to this post. Here I am, August this year, with Nicola and Joanna as they are today.



I shall tag: alpaca.farmer
Cluttercut
A View from the Green Barn
Nicki's Diet

I've been tagged

Mrs Almost Average over at The Rubbish Diet has tagged me to find out six "interesting" things about me so here you go.

1. I am the keeper of my mother's family archive. Something to do with spending lots of time with Grandpa and Grandma sorting out letters and pictures and so on. So they left it to me and now my cupboards are full of pictures, books, diaries, photographs, letters and family trees, some dating back over two centuries. I'm trying slowly to bring a bit of order and to digitize it. It takes ages but I love it, and can bore on/talk about it for ever.

2. I'm allergic to oysters. And I love them. I wasn't originally but had a bad reaction at my uncle's 60th birthday party. I avoided them for years, partly because I thought I should, and partly because I was pregnant and breastfeeding a lot of that time. Then I thought I'd try them again and did, and had a weird reaction, couldn't see properly, had to lie down, headache, sickness. And so I missed my uncle's 65th birthday party and spent the evening in bed. I've made a promise not to go near an oyster for his 70th.

3. I have a tattoo. Not a sign of teenage rebellion. I wasn't a rebellious teenager. My tattoo was a 31st birthday present to myself. And yes it did hurt. And no I don't regret it. But who knows what the grandchildren will think in years to come...

4. Whenever I go to Paris, I get asked directions by locals, in French. I have no idea why as I'm 6 feet tall, wear next to no makeup and am not fearsomely chic like most Parisiennes. But for some reason, the French seem to think I'm a local and will be able to help. Clearly I am flattered by this.

5. I grew up without pop music. My father was born in 1925 so by the 60s was a bit old for the Beatles. Also he played jazz guitar, was an avid fan of Django Reinhart and frankly thought these new upstarts couldn't sing or play for toffee. So we had a diet of jazz and classical at home and it was only on visits to friends that my sister and I got to hear Abba or the Osmonds or Blondie. It wasn't until I turned 16 and we were given a radio that we discovered Radio 1. A little late for punk, but my first gig was the Stranglers at Newcastle City Hall in 1983, and my father thought the world had ended. His post hoc justification was that this restricted diet gave us a broader musical education - I thought that was terribly convenient for him, as he really couldn't stand the sound. But I do have a broad taste in music and can sing all sorts of jazz standards that I probably wouldn't know otherwise.

6. I'm afraid of water. Not in every form. I drink the stuff, and wash, but I don't put my face under the shower. It took a very determined teacher four years to teach me breaststroke, and that is all I can do. Can't tread water, and won't go out of my depth. My most undignified swimming moment has to have been with my ex who on holiday in Brazil had visions of us diving from our yacht and swimming ashore to a tropical paradise. After clinging desperately to the side of the boat to the amusement of the fisherman who'd taken us out in his boat, and the frustration of M, I was persuaded to paddle ashore with a life ring. Somehow lacked that Bacardi advert feeling...

And I shall tag

alpaca.farmer
welsh hills again
mountainear
Nicki's Diet