The great clear-out continues and I have reached the most feared job of all – sorting out years of photos. The actual physical ones I mean, and there must be thousands of the things. Some in piles, some in albums, some black and white blurred images, some large formal portraits. How many photos does a family actually need? Or want?
I look with desperation at all those images of holidays long forgotten (some thankfully so), babies now grown (to be honest, it’s hard to tell one from another anyway) and elaborate expensive weddings (again, it can be hard to tell one from another). We definitely don’t want them all, but what is to be done? The answer is a ruthless cull, starting with the following:
1. All pictures of people you struggle to identify, or those you had forgotten existed up until now.
2. All school photos of other people’s children. The ones of your own are more than enough.
3. All holiday photos containing only scenery or buildings. One hill looks pretty much like another. The Eiffel Tower really hasn’t changed since that picture was taken and if you’re desperate to see what it looks like, the internet is awash with images. Or treat yourself to a weekend in Paris.
4. Wedding photos of people you barely recognise or couples you haven’t seen or heard of in 20 years. If you have kept in contact, you may keep one wedding photo. If you must.
5. All planes, trains and automobiles, unless they contain someone interesting.
5. Poorly composed pictures. All those photos with the tops of heads cut off, feet severed at the ankles or streetlights sprouting from people’s heads.
6. Ones that don’t flatter you, especially those documenting your most embarrassing hairstyles.
After this satisfying exercise, you will still be left with far too many photos of people. These must be strictly rationed to one per person per year for close family members and one per person per decade for others. In addition, each family member can be allocated one newborn or Christening photo (but not both), one graduation photo (that mortar board really doesn’t suit anyone anyway) and one wedding photograph (the most recent one for the much married).
Now put the few remaining photos in an album and congratulate yourself on a job well done. Just try not to think about all those digital photos floating in a cloud somewhere on high.
Sheridan if you manage tos tick to those rules, you’re a better woman than I am, Gunga Din
It’s all a fantasy – I couldn’t part with most of the baby pictures, for a start. However, those endless landscapes are definitely heading for the recycle bin.
Tos tick should of course been to stick.
New rule, proof read more before pressing send!
I’m glad you’re not sorting my photos! Apart from anything else, every hill is unique.
Mind you, I think Caroline is with you on the hills front. Uniqueness is obviously in the eye of the beholder.
I think we need to prepare a hill identification quiz for you.
Totally identify with your hordes of photos, Sheridan, but the thought of sorting them is so gigantic, I’m not even going to consider following your good practice!
It got to the point where the thought of them all sitting there was more daunting than the thought of sorting them out!