... preoccupied, careless, busy
Preoccupied, careless, busy, I put it down and I've lost my camera card. Not too much bigger than my thumb, but to me, priceless. 1,600 pictures of some of my favorite things. I know, I know. Don Norris is always saying to download your pictures onto your computer or onto a disk. I meant to, I really did. I had another card with me and that one was full. I was taking pictures of my eight year old grandson, Jonathan. He was going fishing and they usually just go to the bait shop and get worms. His mum and I started telling him about the time when she was young and she and her brother would dig for "night crawlers" and I would take all of the neighborhood kids fishing. She told him about the time I took them all fishing and they had collected maybe two dozen worms. Big, fat, creepy, crawly worms. They had put them into a pie plate with a bunch of good dirt. The kids piled into the car. In those days, you didn't need a seat belt, so the more, the merrier. We were off to Gloucester to "fish". The pie plate with the worms went up onto the back window. Well, I'm sure by now, you know what happened. Traffic, slammed my brakes, worms everywhere. Ten screaming kids. All of them still remember that day, forty years later.
So, to get back to my story. After hearing his mother's tale about her "worms", Jonathan decided that he would dig for his own bait. Well, sure enough, he found a worm and brought it to me to "take a picture of this worm, Grammy". He was so proud and I got that picture on my camera card. A picture, lost forever.
My dear, dear friend Rita Quinn Dietrich asked me the other day what I was writing about now for the Mirror and I told her my tale of woe. I told her how I had planned to write about a trip I took recently to Rockport. I probably took one hundred pictures that day, first of the Country Store, where I found and bought a "Sky Bar" for Joe Sullivan, took a picture of the different types of penny candies, the player piano, a picture of the little tin signs that said, "If you were here, you'd be home now" and "If I can live my life over, I want to live over a delicatessen", and sayings like that. It was a beautiful day and sitting outside of the Country Store, were two high school boys, who had just finished their school day. They had on crazy masks of paper mache' horses, which were very creative, and I asked them if I could take their picture. Sure, enough, I got some great pictures of them. Lost forever.
I got my picture taken with Motif #1. No double chins. No false smile. Just two old relics,"looking good", just needing "a little face lift or two". Lost forever. The local neighborhood kids, about ten years of age, were in bathing suits, swinging on a rope that was probably used to moor a boat, and jumping into the water. Their towels were so colorful and they were having such a good time. Motif #1 was in the background, and wet kids having a blast. That was going to be my story. Lost. Never to be captured like that on film by me again.
While I was in Rockport and at the Country Store, I saw and bought my four grandchildren waxed lips and mustaches. Big, fat, red lips for the girls and big, fat mustaches for the two boys. When I gave them to the kids, the girls put on the lips and the boys, the "stashes", and I took their picture. To have four siblings get into pictures at the same time, is tough to do. They were kind of screaming that the wax tasted "really, really gross", and I kept saying, "Wait. Just one more picture!". Lost. Never to be captured in film again.
When you hit a certain age and you are going to have your picture taken or turn around and there is a camera staring at your face, you kind of "tense up". Well, I got a fabulous picture of my brother Skip. Not to brag, but it was probably the best or at least in the top ten best pictures of him of all time. I was planning to make copies of the picture for him and some copies for his children. Lost. Gone.
At the talent show that was held at my grandchildren's school, I took a small video of Jonathan, the self proclaimed "Hula Hoop Champion of the World" in a Hula Hooping contest. Lost. Gone forever.
I offered a reward and prayed really, really hard to Saint Anthony, who is supposed to help me "find lost stuff". If he comes through for me, and I find my camera card, even if it is in December, you can bet that you will be seeing pictures of kids swimming in Rockport.
September 6, 2013