On photography and memories

As I have been scanning and backing up photos over the past few days, I have found some photos that really start the memories flowing.
Many photos are of grandparents, great grandparents, their siblings or other relatives that are important for the knowledge of my roots however I didn’t really know too many of these people well. Some I have never met but know only through photos, notes scribbled on the back and the stories of my relatives. I can look at them and see  my children, cousins, nieces and nephews (and even myself) in these faces from long ago.
Then there are the photos of people that I have known, loved …. and lost.

Backing up – and a laugh

I’ve been reading too many blogs lately about the perils of not backing up.
I thought I had a pretty good system for my backing up and I try to do it regularly.
I back up to two external hard drives and then I burn to CD/DVD. However the other day I was informed that CDs can fail after 5 years or so.
*sigh*
This threw me into a bit of a panic, so for the past few days I have been copying a lot of my CDs made 10 years or more ago onto my external HDs.
I am contemplating purchasing little USB drives to back the external HDs up to as apparently they have a longer life span.

Memories of the past

I confess that I am still reading “Man’s Search for Meaning” by Viktor Frankl. I find that I cannot read too much of it at once, so a page or two at a time must suffice.
In this book, Frankl describes his experiences in concentration camps in such a matter of fact and clinical way that I sometimes need to reread paragraphs in order to fully understand what it was that he has just said and allow the words to penetrate my mind and soul.
I am not a visual learner but when I am reading, I tend to visualise things in my head and I must say that the images invoked by Frankl’s words are extremely disturbing.

The Jardiniere

In the corner of my lounge room sits a jardiniere. She is a grand old beauty however her age is beginning to show.
Once she contained ferns and other indoor house plants and lived on the top of a silky oak planter stand by the window in my grandmother’s lounge room. Before that, she belonged to my great-grandmother and lived in her family home.
I have more than likely insulted her with the plastic ivy and wooden tulips that grace her insides now however she is aging and her strength is not what it used to be. Plastic ivy it will have to be.
See that crack on her side? It is only a small part of the further damage around the back that is now disguised by the wall.

25th July 2009

It’s often been said that a mother should never have to bury her children. It is wrong that the person who brought you into the world, should also have to see you out of it. However, it is equally sad when the oldest sibling outlives her younger brothers.
It isn’t just sad, it is tragic. And life seems so unfair.
Five years ago today we left the waiting room to say our goodbyes to one of the most gorgeous men I was privileged to share my life with.

Oops Sorry

You know how it is when you get so caught up in something that you forget time and you even forget to eat?
That’s been me the past couple of days.
Seriously.
Since deciding to get back into the family history, I have been really getting my teeth into it and loving every minute.
As it has been about 6 years since the last time that I even opened the family tree to even look at it, a lot has changed.