It's kind of sad, but this is the oldest picture I have of myself at Christmas. I'm not even sure what year it was, but I would guess sometime around 1968-69. This is me with my grandmother, Roberta. Her friends called her Bobbi, which I always thought was cute. In fact, I named my main character in my newest story after her. She was a sweet lady. I don't even know what house this picture was taken in. Like I said, it's sad, but at least I have this one.
My brother and sister have some old family albums, so maybe there are others of me. I don't know. I had scanned a bunch of old photos a few years ago, but then we had some computer issues and I lost most of those files. I'm not sure if there were any Christmas ones on there or not.
The only thing I recognize in this picture -- apart from my grandmother and myself -- is the nativity on the table. We had that nativity in our house for years. Last time I saw it, my sister had it. It was really old and tattered. I'm not sure if she still has it now. In away, I wish I did because I collect nativities, even thought it was pretty beat up. I remember all the pieces were glued down and you just pulled down the front cardboard section to open it. I loved looking at it when I was little.
Anyway, there's no rhyme or reason to this blog post, nor do I have anything important to say. I guess Christmas just brings out the nostalgia in me. I just wanted to share this picture with you. I can't even force myself to crop it. Even though it's not a good picture, all that junk on the table was a part of my life -- somehow. I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas!