The Photo Digitiser

Back in the day, my parents used to carve their photographs onto slabs of stone using only their teeth.  Or something.   I’m less than 157 years old, so I didn’t really understand what they were talking about when they spoke of slides and projectors.

Dad got a slide digitiser for his birthday, which takes the images from a defunct format into a modern one.  He’s been holed up in the loft, digitising away, for days, apparently.  It’s a slow process when you have to stop every hour for a snack.

Occasionally, usually around Christmas when there were transatlantic relatives to pacify, my parents would take leave of their senses and attempt to capture commemorative images of their offspring to send across the world in an envelope.

All of which means I can now bring you a photograph of me aged about three, having been shoe-horned into something approximating a dress.  That dress came directly from my mother’s sewing machine without passing a trained seamstress on the way.

I look really at ease, don't I?

Dad over-compressed the photographs to email them to me, of course, because despite having lurched reluctantly into the 21st century and being regularly flabbergasted by all this progress, he’s still not completely got his head around things like assessing all the options before just hitting the nearest button.

I can’t be too harsh: on that score, I am my father’s daughter.

Yes, my mother used to cut my hair.  Why do you ask?


1 Response to “The Photo Digitiser”

  1. 1 Stacie November 22, 2010 at 7:32 pm

    Thanks for the smiles, you are hilarious! And you were a very cute little girl.

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