eight years old and running with, a dime in my hand, to the bus stop to pick up a paper, for my old man.

 Up in QL with my family for the holidays and was really excited when my mum pulled out an envelope of old photos my Aunte had sent my dad after my grandmother died. I never got to meet my grandfather, and because my grandmother lived in the states, I never really got to know her that well before she passed away. It was fascinating to look through all these old photos while my dad told me the stories behind them.

Hope you enjoy going through them as much as i did and that ya'all have a bloody great Christmas. Peace and love.