After a short run in the woods dressed like a ninja (black tights, black jacket, black VFF, bla- eh, blue buff. Ok, like a colourful ninja), I took on the challenge of sorting through old photographs and putting them in albums. We keep the old, printed ones in a box, all heaped up in a pile, and never look at them precisely because they're in a pile. We're talking hundreds of photos here. I bought a couple of photo albums and fished out some glue, and got started.
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| Santorini '98. I love that place. |
Hours later I emerged out of a cloud of glue, my head spinning with memories but mostly with low blood sugar. And glue fumes. But I'm not finished, oh no. I'm not even half way. After I tried to sort the photos and divide them into smaller, thematic piles, I realised this would be a task that was going to take weeks. It wasn't just that they were disorganised, the ones from England together with the ones from Sweden, together with old ones that neither J or I recognise; there were doubles as well. Try finding those ones among the hundreds of others.
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| Santorini '98. |
And then, suddenly, I ran out of glue. You can imagine my disappointment.
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