Last year I took a photo of your teeny tiny granddaughter next to the rose that bears her name, and I promised you (and the rest of the world that reads this blog – hi Mum) that I was going to make it a tradition, that every year I would take a photo of Kitty and her rose to watch how they both grow, and to show you that I’ve kept both alive. I suspect you have more confidence in my parenting skills than my green fingers.
I’d love to claim that the reason you haven’t seen any photo yet this year is the stormy weather being unfriendly to outdoor photography of little girls, or the unseasonable cold delaying the blooms, but the bush is dripping with blossoms, and yet no photo.
The thing is, I can get a photo of a toddler speeding past in search of her ball or her ‘mouw’ (Minnie Mouse), or carrying a couple of stray clothes pegs, and as you see, I can provide evidence of the vigour of said rose bush. But no end of bribery, corruption, or assistance from her father will get the two in shot together, or at least in shot and looking at the camera.
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(that’s a cricket ball she’s trying to wrestle from her Dada)
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Source Throughout my childhood you photographed our highlights and our downtime, all on film cameras without half the options I have for multiple shutter releases and the power of the delete button, so come on Snowdon, now it’s time to spill. How did you persuade two similarly active little girls to sit still for you?
Enquiring minds (and your daughter) would really like to know.