Last fall my computer broke. I can't begin to tell you what happened, only that it stopped doing what I had lovingly asked it to do for three years - function without requiring anything of me - and the painfully short story, like ripping off the band-aid, is that it took all of my photos with it.
I know. I thought I had the back-up all covered. Apparently I was wrong.
I have only recently been able to say all of that out loud, because you know. If you are a parent - heck, if you are alive, you probably know that photos are what document our lives in this era. We don't sit around a fire, retelling the old stories about the smallest details of our lives, we just snap photos and then thumb through them over and over, until the moments are forever imprinted in our minds. The missing teeth, the dress-up clothes, the messes, the explores. The playdough sculptures, the cities made out of tupperware, the leaning towers of blocks. It would not be dramatic to say I've been devastated and even writing this makes me feel like I might throw up.
But I've had the blog. Thankfully something compelled me to put photos on here for the last sevenish years, which is not everything, but is at least something. I am woefully behind on so many posts - so many photos! - but am ever more determined to flush out the catalog of our lives, to not lose those little moments...Like this one.
The day after Morfar and Gramma Liz left was April 1, and somehow we awoke to the presence of a suspicious and possibly drunk gnome sitting in our garden, surrounded by poorly hidden plastic eggs. Dan spotted them from the kitchen window while he was drinking his coffee and counting finches.
|Did I say "finches"? I meant squirrels.|
I know, it's terrible, that place where wild animals and plastic intersect, but this was the funniest thing I've seen in a long while. Picture me, with camera, in pajamas, following this guy around the neighborhood. They are so clever and dexterous and apparently desperately in need of cheap chocolate!
She eventually dropped the egg, and Ani ran to grab the evidence. She'd managed to chew a hole in the top, and presumably enjoyed the innards.
There was a quick gathering of the mystery eggs, with no further hijinx, except for that one mischievous slug...