Say “cheese”!

I do a horrible job of taking photos. That doesn’t mean I take horrible photos. It means I do a bad job of actually using my camera. To take photos.

I’ve never really thought much of this before. Growing up, I never had photos of me with friends and family plastered on my bedroom walls. In high school, when I had to complete a scrapbooking assignment for a Grade 12 English class, I pillaged my mother’s photo albums. Don’t believe me? Ask to see her albums. It’s like she never had a daughter. At least, not a daughter between the ages of 0 and 17.

In college, I noticed my roommates coating their walls with tons of photos of them with their family and friends. I began to think that I, too, should have something by which to remember my family and friends, so I purchased a camera. And, it wasn’t just any camera; it was a special camera that required special film that produced special panoramic images.

What? My family is long. I thought it a wise choice.

And, there certainly was a lot of specialness produced. Costly specialness, too, as I had to pay to print all those special panoramas. I’m pretty certain that was during my sophomore year of college because I seem to only have photos from that year. The only reason I have any photos of me playing volleyball in college is because my mom was sweet enough to document my entire senior year on film, presenting me with an end-of-the-season scrapbook. Thanks, Mom! My other photos came thanks to Erin’s love of buying double prints. Thanks, Erin!

When I went away to graduate school, I went without a camera (the panoramic coolness had died). And that was OK because I really didn’t make a lot of memories that I cared to remember.

Sometime after I started my first professional job, I decided that I really did need to be a camera owner, again. So I purchased a Canon SureShot. Stepping into the digital world was wonderful, and I could take as many (and delete as many) pictures as I wanted. I printed a few here and a few there. It was nice.

But having a camera didn’t do much to entice me into using the camera. I’d take a few of my family and a few of my friends and that was about it. And then I met my husband, and I began to wonder if I should be taking more photos. You know, for that moment down the road, when, perhaps, small children enter the picture and want to see photos of us pre-small children.

So, I started taking photos. Or, I should say, started trying to take photos. But, Husband wasn’t (and still isn’t) all about having his photo taken. He tends to be a willing subject, but requests to see all taken photos and then deletes all images he didn’t like.

Which means our two-plus years together can be pieced together with 9 photos. OK, that’s an exaggeration, Mom. It’s more like 19.

Thank goodness we hired someone to take some engagement and wedding photos, or we’d be coming up very short. Whew!

I’ve already warned Mom that if a small child is in need of photos of his/her parents, I’m sending the wee one to her. Or to their Nana.

Which could be why I’ve seen my mother-in-law’s camera out as often as I have these past few days.

“Cheese” already!

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One thought on “Say “cheese”!

  1. Mom says:

    You go Geri and don’t let son delete anything. 🙂

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