I spent some time last night on the sorely needed task of sorting through family photos dating from 2017 back to the late 1800s. I battled my way through two packed shoeboxes, forcing myself — for my own remaining sanity — to do a severe pruning of the many, many snapshots. Nobody needs doubles or triplicates of their grandmother's obscure family friend from the 1950s. Or zillions of blurry baby photos. News flash: All babies look the same.
Some photos will be sent off to other relatives; a curated few went to Ashar, who is very interested in his late grandmother's world travels; some were added to a now-overflowing ephemera giveaway from last summer that I'm still hoping someone will take me up on; and the remaining pictures were sorted into thematic piles for the next round (sigh).
And, of course, a handful of photos were set aside for Papergreat posts. I hope to do those posts this week, so that I don't come across these little piles six months from now and wonder why the heck I set them aside in the first place.
All of which bring us to this cat.
The artsy snapshot at the top of this rambling post features Spice, who was one of my mother's cats when she was growing up. I'd heard Spice mentioned a few times over the years, but this undated snapshot (probably from between 1955 and 1965) was new to me. What a cool-looking cat, sitting in a sunbeam on an Oriental rug.
While my time didn't overlap with Spice, here's a list of the cats I've lived with, starting in the late 1970s: Buddy, Cyrano, Buckeye, Scoop, Maya, Salem, Sammy, Huggles, Mr. Bill, Mitts, Floyd and Mr. Angelino.
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