This old notebook doesn’t look like much. Indeed, it’s a bit battered and creased. A bit pocket worn maybe? The paper is browning. What do you expect to find inside? Shopping lists?
Surprisingly, it’s actually a diary of a holiday that a dear family friend wrote. He’s no longer with us but every time I look through the pages I can hear him recalling the trip with great fondness.
I like the inclusion of postcards and little pictures. Occasionally, I wonder how written? Did the author sit down at the end of the day? Or if it was constructed on returning home.
My mum used to tell us about the holiday. I loved hearing the stories of what they saw and did. And laughed every time I heard about the dog who mistook my Grandmother’s floral dress for a bush.
Isn’t it delightful that verse describes the events of each day? It inspired me to write my own description of a trip to Italy when I was eleven. I cringe now thinking about some of the rhymes but it was fun to do.
Comparatively, I can’t help compare this to how we record our holiday memories today. The more public forums of social media and blogs are where we share. Or memory cards sit around waiting for attention. When you do stumble across them while looking for a file, or trying to figure out how to change your profile picture the pleasure of memory is just the same.
This is my favourite page. The pun about sandwiches being made of sand never ceases to amuse me and reminds me how wonderful and odd language is.
Do you keep a holiday diary? How do you record your memories?