I was up super-early this morning to get my son to his training camp. Then back home, to pay some bills and to wait for the truck to arrive to haul away our first pod.
While I was waiting, I packed another couple of boxes of things that won’t be going into storage, but will be coming with us to the house we will be living in for the next year. Then I went to the gym to climb. Then I came home, and I cleaned out and refilled our small, backyard pond. Then I made dinner. And so on.
So I did alot today, but when I started to think about what I had been focusing on today, and what I would be writing about tonight… I was coming up blank.
That’s when I remembered the big tub of photographs.
It must be something like three cubic feet, and it is jam-packed with photographs from that era of parenting that pre-dates our purchase of a digital camera. And since our first child was born during that period (obviously), that means that this tub contains stacks upon stacks of nearly identical photographs of a sleeping infant.
My plan: take about an hour to clear out the vast majority of these photographs, keeping only the truly memorable or truly beautiful.
Easier said than done.
I started pulling out individual photographs and wandering over to my wife with them. First one or two, but soon I had a dozen or so photographs laid out on the table… and I had only just skimmed the surface of that box.
So it looks like tonight is not the night to tackle the photo tub. And that’s OK.
I’m sure we will get to it soon. And I’m sure we will be holding onto quite a few keepers.