Scrapbook Obsessed.
It began innocently enough. Take pictures. Develop pictures. Put pictures into an album. Maybe write a few words about who is in the picture, where it was taken, why. And then suddenly, inspiration hits, and a funny sentence is added. A story is told. Colored markers make an appearance. Oh, this scrap of paper looks nice against the background.
I know many women who lived quite happily with shoeboxes of photos until they were ambushed by Creative Memories (and I really do mean ambushed in the nicest way). I wasn't one of them. I was cutting up paper and adding captions long before I knew about archival markers or special glue, much less 12 x 12 sheets of patterned paper. I was delighted to find out that my secret passion was a certified, money making product line, even if, I confess, I never enjoyed spending all that money to make sure that everything was archival.
Then I had kids. The picture taking escalated. Then we got a digital camera. The picture taking rocketed past the moon. Only now there was choice, there was the ability to take two dozen photos to capture the moment in just the right way. Yikes. I was scrapbooking regularly, with the "right" pages and the right products. My best friend had a baby three weeks before me, and we would take our sleeping infants through the craft store and drool and ooh and buy, buy, buy.
The first year of Sterling's life takes up not less than two of the 12 x 12 straphinge albums that now dominate our botton book shelf. At least three inches thick each. Thankfully, I got pregnant that first year, and despite the addition of a second set of smiles, the albums got a bit more spare, say, a book and a half. Then the kids got older, we remodeled and put everything in storage, and moved. Digital photography makes it far easier to just leave everything on the computer and not worry so much about it - after all, its not like you've got a shoe box of photos to stare you in the face whenever you open the closet door.
This is going somewhere. Really. But more on that tomorrow.
I know many women who lived quite happily with shoeboxes of photos until they were ambushed by Creative Memories (and I really do mean ambushed in the nicest way). I wasn't one of them. I was cutting up paper and adding captions long before I knew about archival markers or special glue, much less 12 x 12 sheets of patterned paper. I was delighted to find out that my secret passion was a certified, money making product line, even if, I confess, I never enjoyed spending all that money to make sure that everything was archival.
Then I had kids. The picture taking escalated. Then we got a digital camera. The picture taking rocketed past the moon. Only now there was choice, there was the ability to take two dozen photos to capture the moment in just the right way. Yikes. I was scrapbooking regularly, with the "right" pages and the right products. My best friend had a baby three weeks before me, and we would take our sleeping infants through the craft store and drool and ooh and buy, buy, buy.
The first year of Sterling's life takes up not less than two of the 12 x 12 straphinge albums that now dominate our botton book shelf. At least three inches thick each. Thankfully, I got pregnant that first year, and despite the addition of a second set of smiles, the albums got a bit more spare, say, a book and a half. Then the kids got older, we remodeled and put everything in storage, and moved. Digital photography makes it far easier to just leave everything on the computer and not worry so much about it - after all, its not like you've got a shoe box of photos to stare you in the face whenever you open the closet door.
This is going somewhere. Really. But more on that tomorrow.
posted by Jennifer | 10:20 p.m.
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