Memory Lane

I have always had a mostly hate-hate relationship with cameras and photographs. There are few pictures taken of me that I don't find deeply embarrassing . . . kinda makes my new found passion a wee bit ironic. So why have I drug out a few choice pieces of photographic memorabilia? Perhaps its the hair of the dog that bit me or some form of desensitization. Mostly, my dad, for the first time in my memory, took care of his own Christmas gift giving this year . . . and the most amazing gift he gave my sister and I were CD's with old family photos. The above pic is from high school, probably my senior year. Lots of hair. 
From about 9 months of age until 5 years, we lived in San Diego and this pic is at the zoo. I remember, oddly enough, riding this train and asking my grandmother if I could use her chap-stick. It was minty and I thought it stung my lips. Just today, Big D had quite the melt down when he had to brush his teeth with mint toothpaste. At the time I was irritated with his over-the-top reaction but now I'm remembering how intensely the chap-stick seemed to tingle and burn my lips.
My grandparents, who also lived in San Diego at the time, had orange trees in their yard and this marvelous swing. I love this picture -- so care free. I see the same look in my children's faces when they are unaware that I am observing their play. (Of course, sometimes when they are "unaware" they are up to no-good  . . . story for another time). I took pictures of Big D and Sis at the park today. It was sunny and mild and the sun dipping towards the horizon. Several feature big smiles and wind blown hair in the swings. Makes me very happy:)

Three pictures is not much of a trip down memory lane. And in fact, though I thought I'd have lots of interesting things to say about the pictures and childhood and family -- I find that I'm struggling to do so. Memory is a slippery little beast. I'm conscience that what I want to remember and what really was are two different things. My children will form odd hodge-podge collections of memories, too. I wonder what they'll remember when they look at today's pictures?