The Trouble With Pictures

My life somtimes seems to be controlled by pictures. I'm forever taking them, and scrapbooking them. I have untold photo albums. I have boxes, ziploc bags and random drawers full of photos. It's a nightmare.

I was reminded of my love-hate relationship with pictures just this week. I want to scrap my grandparents' 40th wedding anniversary from back in '88. I knew I had a bunch of pictures, it was just a matter of finding them. Some were in my photo box, in the '80s bag. Others were inexplicably in the '91-'00 bag. A few others I tracked down in various other locations, and yet I knew I was still missing some pictures, including this one:

Seriously, I was losing sleep over this. My frustration knew no bounds. And where did I finally find the missing pictures? Tucked into a photo album with other random '80s pictures that I'd totally forgotten about. Grr.


Now that the matter of the anniversary party has been settled, I'm faced with another. A stack of pictures from 1987 that feature my brother, my mother and I in a park-like setting that has no name. Mom can't remember, nothing was jotted down. Come on! I tried Googling a park with a Buddah in it, like in this picture, but to no avail.


Still I slog on. I'll have to put in another call to my grandparents, who have been teasing me with their old pictures. They were going to bring them for me to have (albums, people, whole albums!) the last time they came to NY, but there wasn't room in the car. Say what?? And they keep telling me they'll go through them and send me some when they get a chance. Hello! Retirees! Nothing but time! Sigh.


And hey, if you have any pictures I might like, feel free to send them. I'll add them to one of my many piles or CDs or albums!