A box of memories

I've spent some time today looking through old Photographs. I remember how excited I was as a child to be allowed to explore my parents' tin box of snapshots. Part of the appeal was that the pictures were all jumbled together mostly without titles or even dates. The old tin box is mine now and i have never organised it. Not all the careful albums, boxes of slides or computer files can match the magic of riffling through this box of memories.

Just one memory - the little girl is me on my fourth birthday. I was very proud of the new pink pinafore that an aunt had knitted for me. I pestered my mum until she allowed me to carry the camera, very carefully, to my dad in the garden so that he could take a picture.