I love this photo of my Dad found amongst a pile of old family photos:
He's the dashingly handsome one on the far left, standing out amongst a rather pasty bunch of post-war Englishmen.
His wrist is in a cast because he broke it in a motorcycle accident - which turned out to be a blessing in disguise because the fracture was discovered when he was undergoing the National Service medical and it got him out of 18 months in the army. For some reason Daughters One and Two always get a kick out of that story.
Last year a massive landslip in the middle of the night saw the backyards of several houses in the suburb up the hill from us disappear.
Just over 9 months later the houses that the residents fled from in their pyjamas are still boarded up, and they have been unable to return to collect a toothbrush let alone their photos, laptops, vital documents and other precious things.
It must be incredibly frustrating that the houses are still sitting there with all their things inside them, several earthquakes later.
Daughter-One and I went for a walk along the street and then back down the hill to our place.
It has a definite 'post Zombie apocalypse" air about it ...
Daughter-two really was the easiest toddler. As long as she had a pile of books and her toy corner to quietly play in she was happy.
We did make sure she got out to music class and to playgroup and to the palm tree lined pool downstairs in the Singapore condo that we lived in. And she was quite happy to go along (and ignore all the other children in each of those venues!) and then quite happy to come home and potter.
I took a set of photos one day while she was amusing herself.
They really need to do something about the trolls in Miramar ...
My parents came down to visit last week, and we went for a Sunday drive around the bays, ending up at Weta Workshop in Miramar, where they make special effects for movies such as The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.
It nearly ended badly for Daughter-Two thanks to an invasion of trolls in the front garden.
Next we drove out to the suburb where I lived as a child, not long after we first arrived in New Zealand. The stone wall I remember sitting on while I waited for the postman is still there - though it was half the height I remembered it.
I couldn't resist a quick (far from perfect) photoshop of Daughter-Two, my sister and I all on the same wall:
Speaking of childhood pics, here's another of The Husband's scrapped for his "50 years in 50 photos album" (I have a few years to get it done, and at this rate I'll need it)