What happened?

My mother has given me temporary possession of the family slides. I say temporary possession only to quiet any rumblings from the Madcow-Brothers who may be under the delusion that they have any rights to their ownership ... but haha suckers, I'm here and you're not and mum loves me the best! OK, so we all know that's not true but it's my story and I'm sticking to it.

I've been trying to spend at least an hour every night scanning them into the pc with the aim of burning cd's for all of us. On one hand its probably only a marginally more interesting task than watching paint dry, but on the other hand it's proving to be quite a time of surprises and reflection.

Needless to say the whole age thing is foremost in my mind. How can things/people/events that I remember vividly be over 40 years ago? What happened to turn those little cherubs into the grumpy old farts they are now? Oh yeah. We got old. Older, fatter, greyer and cynical.

Back then Great Auntie Nellie coming to visit on a PLANE was enough to send the extended family rushing to Hood Aerodrome to witness the arrival and departure. And of course those were the days where a lady wore a hat and lippy when setting out on such an adventure. These days Nellie would catch a shuttle bus and wear her comfy track suit no doubt.

Back then nuns were real nuns - penguin suits and all - and their angelic faces belied the previous fifteen minutes of "God is watching you so get into those lines ... NOW!" and the threat of the leather strap hidden under those folds of black wool. Oh well, at least I got to wear a veil! LOL

Back then my mother even looked like she knew how to ham it up for the camera. Little girls dresses were made with an extra yard of fabric in the hem so that the dress would accomodate the different shapes of the six cousins who would wear it next. And that car!

Now of course I can remember all these things vividly and have got no idea what my own cell phone number is. Now I scoff at people who say women eventually turn into their mothers - bollocks! We turn into our fathers if the sudden sprouting of hair on the chin is any indication. Now all the little boys I fancied at school are ageing and fat too and I doubt if any of them would remember how to tie a necktie let alone own one.

Perhaps the Madcow-Brothers can have the slides afterall.