"You don't think", said Himself cautiously (taking a step backwards to what was just beyond an arm's length away), "that it's a bit ...". Something hovered in the air.
"A bit ...?" I enquired politely, trying to keep a smidgen of ice out of my voice, as I dried the cup.
"Well, you know ... late. After the event. Quite a lot after, actually", he added, nodding in the direction of the small book, papers and camera on the kitchen table. He warmed to his theme. "I should think it's about, oh, six months ago now." There was just a hint of smug. In Himself's world, projects are always delivered on time.
"Luckily", I replied, "we don't do 'late' in the scrapbooking world. No such thing. We don't even worry about 'finished'". I stared him straight in the eye, hoping I sounded convincing as I carefully folded the tea-towel lengthways. "Argh!" he cried, in mock-horror, riffling through a couple of the pages. "Process, not product? Oh dear!" Management-speak: he knows I hate it and nimbly leapt out of the way and into the table as the end of the tea-towel flicked the hem of his jumper. By the time we'd picked up the book, papers and tripod off the floor, there was contrition (him), mollification (me) and a pot of tea on the go as we alternately turned over pages or held the camera steady to produce these ...
"Happy memories!" he said with a satisfied sigh when we finished dipping in and out of the stories, fishing for photos in the pockets and got to the big family photo on the final page. "Funny, isn't it - reading all about it again makes it seem as if it happened just yesterday". His eyes crinkled at the corners. "No such thing as 'late', is there ..."
So despite its appearance half-a-year after both the holiday and the Ali Edward's Scrapbook On The Road class which helped me back into memory-keeping, I hope you find something to enjoy in it too ...
