Another Wednesday and time to reveal the mess that is my workdesk this week.
Piles, more piles and yet more piles - not a pretty sight. Believe me, I tried taking the photo from various angles but none were an improvement. As you can see I've been scrapbooking. To the left you can just see the completed 12" x 12" posted here. On the right are two 8" x 8" layouts, also completed, and they should now be in the album that's lying underneath at the bottom of that pile. And slap bang in the middle is the start of the next layout. The pack of markers are the ones I use for writing up the journaling.
That's a box of paper strips at the back. I've been riffling through them looking for just the right ones for the layout. Goodness knows why I keep them - I should just bin them and admit it's a hoarding of snippets too far :) Behind that there's a couple of piles of photographs - I've been riffling through them too. The rest is just the usual detritus that seems to accumulate from week-to-week. I think I will have to have a blitz later ... just looking at this photo is making me twitchy.
To join in the fun of snooping round lots of workdesks, messy or otherwise, around the world, just pop over to Julia's place, the Stamping Ground, where you can find links to all those crafters who chose to reveal all, whether it's a desk, a dining table, a kitchen worktop or even the floor. Go on, you'll enjoy it :))
As I'm sure to be asked about it, here's a close up of the layout lying on the top of the pile to the left.
This wonderfully proud gentleman is my great-grandfather, James Patrick Douglas. This photograph was taken in 1915, just before he was sent out to France. He was a 43 year old nursery gardener at the time - rather old to be in the forces but they were desperate times and James had previous experience, having fought in the second Anglo-Boer War, 1899-1902, when he was in late twenties. I can only assume that was why he and my great-grandmother didn't marry until 1904 when he was 32 and she was 29 ... quite old by the standards of the day. I do know that they were very much in love and had a son and a daughter, my grandmother, by 1915. He served with the Field Ambulance Corps, as a stretcher bearer, and somehow survived the war. However, he had lung damage from gas attacks and suffering from shell shock - what we would now diagnose as PTSD - and definitely a hero.