So, you will have already guessed my love for photography – well, you should also know I have a similar passion for videography – or film making. In fact I had a love for it before I could afford to do it. Now, with the age of blogging in full swing, I’ve been encouraged to take it up again with a vengeance…
It always intrigues me where phrases come from – and “The Silver Screen” is one of them. Apparently in the early days of the silent movie, screens where painted with metallic paint in order to make the projections brighter for the audience. “The Silver Screen” has always been an important part of my life. Roll film…
The written word dominates our life, in everything we do. But it goes further than being able to fill in a form, follow road signs or post messages on facebook. It feeds our imaginations, it inspires us, and ultimately it allows us to leave our own thoughts for future generations, who ever may be interested in them.
A collection of words is a sentence, sentences form paragraphs, paragraphs build into chapters and chapters create stories. This is mine.
Ah, that got your attention. I decided to revert back to my Christmas present “Dear Dad – journal of a lifetime” and see what the next question is. And it is all about pets.
So, without any ‘fur’ ther ado…
This is the story of my front tooth. And my hatred of dentists. Read carefully, there is an important message at the end of it. Try not to cheat and skip ahead.
A question I was asked in “Dear Dad” was “What do you think your parents thought of you as a child”?
Picking up where I left off regarding children and their future aspirations, I have pondered long and hard about what is the correct way to aid your children’s development – if indeed there is a correct way. Do you stand by them if they make what you believe are unwise decisions, or do you try to steer them to make the best of their talents and skills?
As our children grow up, I think adults are guilty of many things – over indulgence, lack of attention, asking their opinion over everything, not asking their opinion enough, leaving them to their own devices, pushing them in directions they don’t particularly want to go, low expectations, high expectations, growing them up too soon, not growing them up at all.
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Many years ago, we had to move my Grandad and Grandma Minchin out of their house in Thorney Abbey Rd Blidworth to their final residence in a nursing home. Grandma had become frail and Grandad too ill to climb the stairs to bed. Neither of them really wanted to leave their home.
I don’t know what triggers some memories, but this one popped into my mind while reading a totally unrelated post, closely followed by another similar recollection. Both memories are worthy of recording because they played a monumental role in my childhood development. Continue reading
45 miles to empty tank... 