I went through a pile of old photographs last night. Sat on my own, in the cold, with not a soul to share them with. It was really lovely.
The ones of my mum and dad with my children bought a tear to my eye. For so many reasons. I wasn’t sad. I was happy for those times.
I saw my parents today and they are great. Lovely lovely people. My dad trying to give me anything that he can (food, plants, tools). Very generous. My dad would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it, and would want nothing in return, just knowing that he had helped would be enough.
I am so grateful for them.
It is odd how you get older and forget how you used to look. How your children looked. Completely forgetting names of old mates etc. Life is short.
Photos of mates who I am lucky enough to still see, John, people no longer in my life, are all very valued items that I may not look at again for a long time, however they are something that money cannot buy.
Not forgetting that this blog is supposed to be motorcycle related blog I found some old bike photos too.
My MTX80, with me sat on it with my self customised crash helmet (DIY paint job with my name of the back … What a tosser I was 🤣).
My KMX200. Absolutely loved that bike. Maybe my favourite bike ever. Utter hooligan tool. It was so quick around town. Full engine rebuild, with minimal tools, in the kitchen of my student house. Sold it to buy a Fiat Uno …
Photos of my house mates from said house who I have not seen in 20 plus years. Happy days.
My crashed Austin Mini … What a mess. Funny however.
My 18th birthday… So drunk. I really looked it too. Pub crawl with a handful of mates.
I love old photographs. Something that in today’s world of digital photography we don’t really get. Too many photos. Nothing to touch or really cherish. It is nice to escape your troubles for a few hours and remember days gone by.
Lone Rider 