The bookshelf blog got a little dusty as other things took up my time: work, kids, volunteering...
However, during the summer holidays, I raided the homestead again and carried off photos, postcards and other bits and bobs and this has prompted me to get writing on the blog again.
One of the most remarkable things that my mother did for me was to collect every postcard I ever sent home from my travels. Sometimes I sent lots of cards, other times she had to wait months for a scrawled note from somewhere in the world but they all went into the albums and onto her shelves. It was a life I was too busy to write down but now when I look at the cards I am prompted into recalling places and events that I had all but forgotten.
Today is her birthday but it was I that got the most wonderful present. Now as I sort them out, put them in date order and save them into postcard albums, I realise that she has gifted me the record of my life.
