For the last five years, I have been putting together words and pictures. On most of the 1826 days (so far) the words have been about me but the photos have rarely been of me.

Today, I unashamedly use photos of me as an eight year old, taken by my beloved Daddy. I’m smiling, though why I’m not sure as I seem to recall endless photo sessions where Jan and I would be sat on a stool and told to look this way or that way while my Dad shot photos and my Mum entertained us.

The words on the page are my equally beloved Mummy’s words. She has taken to writing to me of late (along with many of my friends) and this letter popped through my letterbox this morning so its arrival seemed not only timely but also fortuitous because it has made my choice of a shot easy for once.

Mum said she’d sent these pics to me of me smiling to try to help to bring a smile back to my face now.

So, this is an Alstead family effort for my penultimate pic. My photo and words about my Dad’s photos and my Mum’s words.

For me, the writing of the words has brought me a great deal of joy. The photos have often been a struggle, mainly because of my lack of technical ability.

I’ve got one man to thank for my words turning out to be MY words and no-one else’s words. My old boss, Neil once said to me (in the context of presentation skills training) “Linda, you’ve got a great personality, don’t try to hide it by pretending to be someone you’re not, just be you and people will love you for it”. So, since then, I’ve tried to be ME and the love I’ve reaped has been a great joy. Not everyone loves me but then you can’t please all the people all the time can you? And, as they say, what’s one man’s meat is another man’s poison.

Sorry, this is beginning to sound like an Oscar speech (sniff, sob).

Here is me, nothing (much) hidden.

No hiding, no flinching and no compromise.

last year, I was complaining of being tired all of the time......hmmm - now that's a symptom of depression isn't it?