My dad and I started the scrapbook together when I was little and he gradually bowed out and let me carry on.
It’s old now, many of the pages are loose, and it’s battered and beat up. But it’s my treasure. I used to invite friends from the old neighbourhood over – “Hey, you wanna come over and see my scrapbook?” and they would and then we’d play road hockey and pose like the players we had just seen in the book.
Here’s the first few pages. The cover was done by my dad, who was a sign painter.
The photos enlarge when clicked on.