Nice waterfront – as in the location Nice France, 1957, not nice – although it does look quite nice. Thats my Nan in the red jumper. Papa always liked to plonk someone in a red jumper in his photos.
I’m trying to do more things that I like doing. Since I started studying eight months ago it seems that I don’t have, or make the time to do anything but go to school and do assignments. I spent all day today working on an assignment. All day Saturday that is. So I have decided that from now on Sundays will be all mine. I will not do or think about school on Sundays. Saturdays, well I’ll think about that one. I think once beach weather arrives I’ll only do school work until lunch time then it’s my time. In the past eight months I haven’t had time to even look at one of Papa’s photos let alone do anything with one. And I miss doing things I like. My running has really taken a back seat and I don’t like it. I’m getting fat and lazy from sitting in a classroom for six hours a day. And then when I get bored in the classroom I wander about the canteen and eat things I don’t even want. And of course it’s been winter as well so I haven’t really felt like getting up at 5am to go for a run. But as they say – plenty of excuses but no good reason. So I’m really going to get my shit together and start doing some things that I like doing otherwise I’m going to start hating school because I’ll think that it’s stopping me from doing things I like doing when its really just me stopping me from doing things I like and then making excuses for not doing them. If you know what I mean.
So to the start of my new finding time for me era, here are some of papa’s slides from their trip to Ireland in 1957.
I love this one. The little girls running in their caps. I bet it’s bloody freezing even though they make it look like a summers day.
I can see myself living here. I don’t need much around me.
This is Papa here – camera in his hand as usual.
This woman, in the gorgeous suit, with the tiny waist, is using the old – If I try really hard not to look at this strange man wearing a billboard in front of me and pretend he’s not there then he won’t try to look at me or talk to me – tactic.
Photo taken by Papa in London in 1957.
These photo’s were taken by Papa during country town rodeo’s in NSW in 1952.
Back in the days when men were men and cows were, well, cows. Cranky cows.
I’m guessing they were at the showground even though it looks like they’re out in the paddock. Not a fence in sight in the second one.
I’m not a fan of the rodeo myself. There’s one on here every year and I always tell Daz he should go and protest but he’s always worried he’ll get the crap beaten out of him. It’s kind of a big event and the perfect excuse for all the idiots in town to get really pissed and out of control.
But, I love these photo’s. My new favourites.
Peak Hill Rodeo.
If anyone knows where this photo was taken can you let me know please. It would have been taken in 1957 so not sure if the sign is still standing or not. I did a bit of google research on Bowell-McLean and as far as I can see they were only in Vancouver. So I’m guessing this is in Vancouver as well?? I know Nan and Papa did go to Vancouver but not sure if Bowell-McLean had branches in the USA as well.
So has anyone just been driving down the street and seen it? Because that’d be handy.
I’d also just like to say that in the morning I plan on running my 10kms in just under 58 minutes. Just want to put that out there so now I have to do it. Otherwise I might feel the urge to slow down.
So I’m going to bed to rest up and when I get up in the morning you’ll have given me the answer.
That’s it. I just want to know you lovely people from the USA (and anywhere else) would say Papa. As in Papa my grandfather.
See here we pronounce it Par-Par. Each syllable evenly stressed. lol but without the hard r sounding. But then I thought other people might say it Pap-a or I don’t know, Pa-par. So I need to know how people would pronounce it please.
Like Sailor Babo for example. See I always thought he was Bab-o but it turns out he’s more of a Bay-bo.
I was on a train once, years ago, going to work in Sydney and a group of older americans were sitting across from me and this big guy said to me – Whats the next station? And I said Artarmon. And I pronounced it Are-tar-mon. And he cracked up laughing at me and turned to his cronies and said – did you hear that? And then he mimicked me but he really dragged it out. Like Arrrrr-tarrrrr-mon. And I just thought, well I won’t repeat what I thought.
So, Papa. Spell it out please