The simple photo
On my social media feed, a simple photograph. Tones of grey, with that odd scalloped border that Agfa and Kodak used with snapshot paper back when pictures went from wet to dry, rather than on the computer screen to on the computer screen. Yes, this photo had been digitized, but a lifetime after the fact.
Anyhow, it was a simple setting. A mother and an infant, outside by the corner of the house. What immediately caught my eye was that there was concrete in the foundation wall; I had grown up with the belief that local homes simply grew out of the grass. There were various comments about the photo, which I took personally. After all, I was the infant.
And here’s the thing. The house hasn’t changed much. The mother (my mother) hasn’t changed much. I have. A lifetime of growing older has caused a metamorphosis. Infant to senior citizen.
In sharp contrast, we had youngsters around here, this afternoon. A bit of child care for a neighbour with job responsibilities. We put our computers and TV on their best behavior, supplied some oven-warmed pizza, even brought in an extra dog. Two kids, two dog. Makes sense to me. The children were well behaved. The dogs… they did their best, but it’s too difficult to concentrate on naps when there are two creatures with poorly developed conversation skills. They argued over which water dish was which, and better. They queued for biscuits. They ignored the children, because the children ignored them. And so passed a windy day in the countryside.
