Recently I spent a great deal of time scanning a whole box full of my mother's old pictures. This started because I needed a certain picture of my grandmother for a book of poetry I was putting together for a family gift, and turned into one of those mushrooming projects that, of course, is still not finished because now I am looking at scanning all my children's baby pictures plus other random pictures laying around in baskets, boxes, and albums. Anyway, in the process of going through my mom's collection, sorting through pictures of grandparents, great-grandparents, various cousins, aunts, uncles, and family friends I could almost barely remember, I found this picture of me which 1. I did not know existed, and 2. I just love! I seem to have one of those "can't you just leave me and my cat alone and put that camera away?" looks, and I must note that I still have those eyebrows today. And I wonder just how long the cat put up with hanging there in my arms before it rebelled. In reality, I have no memory of this cat or any other childhood cat, a lack for which I am making up today. Still, this cat must belong to someone, or I know it wouldn't allow itself to be subjected to this sort of handling. :-)
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