Adventures in Scrapbooking
Do you remember being a kid - when June rolled around and you felt that old twinge of excitement run through you? That feeling that summer was just around the corner. That the sun won’t set until nine, and the freezer is filled with ice pops, and there are fireflies to catch and waves to ride and adventures to have. I bet you still feel the same way sometimes. Only now you’re stuck in an air conditioned office, and your car is the only one getting any sun.
I get it. We all have to work. But summer is a time for beach houses, barbecues, and road trips. It’s a time for riding your bike at sunset and eating ice cream cones on park benches. For going on hikes with your dog and sipping something cold on your back porch with your friends. For tank tops, flip flops, short haircuts, and sticking your hand out the window as you drive down the highway. And it’s already halfway over.
Soon the sun will set early and your bike will stay in the garage. The lakes will freeze over, and your dog won’t bug you to go for a walk. You’ll stay inside and watch TV, and then you’ll go to bed early. But right now, you’ve got 15 hours of sunlight and the whole world to see. So cut out of work early, pack a couple of maps, and hit the road. We’re going on an adventure.
In my other life, when I’m not writing things on the internet, I attempt to be a cross between Indiana Jones and David Attenborough. I go on a lot of extended camping trips looking for animals, and I do dumb things like climbing 100 foot rainforest trees and wading into water with alligators. I also take a lot of photos, most of which end up in a jumbled mess on my computer, where I inevitably forget about them.
Since I’m pretty tired of having to boot up my old computer to look at my photos, and since I’m also one of those people that likes physical photos much better than pictures on a screen, I’ve decided to make a scrapbook of my recent adventures. And since I want you to be happy and maybe also a little bit crazy and reckless, I’m going to show you how. The catch? Well, now you’re going to have to get out there and do something fun so you can take pictures of it. I know, I know. Compromises.
Step 1: Assemble your photos
For most of us with digital cameras, this means doing some light editing work and printing them out with your own printer or at one of the many drug stores or supermarkets that offer printing services. Put them in whichever order you like. Chronological works. Or you can group them by landscapes, group photos, or close-ups.
In order of adorableness.
Step 2: Assemble your book
Either find a nice scrapbook, or use interesting stationery. I chose the latter, as this brown kraft recycled cardstock fits really well with the whole outdoorsy theme of my book. Either place your stationery in a binder or just tie it together with some ribbon or twine. I chose this red kraft twine since it looks more rustic and threaded it through a few holes that I punched in my cardstock.
Step 3: Add tickets, stolen menus, journal entries, song lyrics, pressed flowers, other memorabilia
Really, anything you found, wrote, made, were given over the course of your trip that is relatively flat makes a great accompaniment to your photos. I have a trail map and an event wrist band.
Step 4: Glue it
Try not to glue your fingers together like I did.
Step 5: Revel in the nostalgia, show off your adventurous spirit to your friends
Nostalgia can be bittersweet. Invite your friends over to look through your scrapbook so you can tell them for the fiftieth time about that day you almost lost your leg to a poisonous snake. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.
So look out your window. Is the sun still shining? Is there gas in your car and air in your bike tires? Is your dog dropping a ratty old tennis ball in your lap? Are there beers in the fridge and friends on your speed dial? Then you’re all out of excuses. You have the whole winter to sleep in and marathon Game of Thrones. But summer is already halfway over. So get outside, and don’t forget your camera. You’ve got memories to make.