My childhood photo album skips from 1966 to 1973. In those years in between, my parents’ marriage was coming apart, and the chaos and changes that brought meant family photography was not high on anyone’s priority list, and what pictures were taken tended to get lost in the shuffle of Dad moving out and then back in and then Mom and us kids moving out and around every few months until we got settled again. What a treasure, then, to find among my grandmother’s things after she died a pocket-sized album of pictures of me and my brother, including a few from those lost years, like the one at left of me and my brother in 1967, when I was almost 5 and he was not quite 18 months old. I’m so glad to have some of those missing pieces filled in; those weren’t the happiest of times, but all of us survived to smile once again.

(I took the title of this entry from the front cover of my grandma’s album. I think it means Silly Old Grandmother with Pictures in Purse, but I’m not 100% sure.)

One year ago: WDW Episode IV: A New Hope
Two years ago: What a Difference a Day Makes
Three years ago: 10 Things
Four years ago: Will My Skis Fit in the Overhead Bin?
Five years ago: no entry
Six years ago: Weight Wait