From an earlier time
Received some photos this morning, from an earlier time in my life. Barely recognized myself; no hair, no muscle tone in my sit down area. Why, even the yard and the house were greyer than I remembered. Could it be that “I’m older than that now”?
Fast forward a couple of frames, and I’m standing on my own. Got toys: a plastic firetruck, a plastic telephone, some other stuff. No books in view. Maybe I just wasn’t in to literature, that much. Too many vowels and consonants.
And a third photo, where I’m sitting at a table. Still with toys. And siblings. Now I’m getting curious. What happened next?
Oh, the memories. I thought my early life was “in living colour”, but these photos tell another tale. Perhaps my whole childhood was done in sixteen tones of black and white. If one of those siblings is reading, let me know if you have similar recollections.
Went out for groceries, this afternoon. Good thing; the fridge was getting in to the state where anything beyond a one-egg omelette would have provided a challenge. Now I’m good for the days ahead. The dog, too. In the order were a variety of pig ears and chew sticks. So easy to keep him satisfied.
Still waiting for the future. Apparently it started, a few minutes ago. Time in all its variants. Firefox (my browser) updated a few hours ago, and now I’m looking for a familiar place. Why do programmers want to mess with my life. Give me back my default arrows!
