{65} 40 years in a photo

Tomorrow (Aug. 15th) is my birthday, and I shall be 48 years old.

Normally I give very little notice to this. I don’t hide it either, and appreciate when people step up to wish me a happy day or buy me a gift. That’s always lovely. But for myself, I never make an issue of it.

I could talk about how I was born on my mother’s birthday, and how everyone but me thinks that’s adorable. Or I could talk about turning 48.

Instead, I’m just going to show you a photograph of when I was about…8? Forty years ago.

I was at the Albuquerque Balloon Festival with my father. He is the one who took the photo. He loved photography and while this was the era of his downward spiral into alcoholism, he still loved going to events like this to take photos. Mother was home sick. Poppa let me have his DIY notebook, and while I’m not sure what I was drawing, it was probably one of the balloons.

1977? About?

So there you go. 40 years in a photo.