Tuesday, July 14, 2009

1 hour photo

While cleaning and packing and I came across several rolls of film that had not been developed. Remember film? Those quaint little canisters, the smell,  the Kodak time capsules? 

Seems like ages ago when that was the only mode for capturing a moment.  I remember when I was a kid we used to take our film to the little drive by Kodak kiosk that could be found in any shopping center parking lot. It used to take a week or more before we would get our pictures back. It was always exciting to relive those birthday parties or trips to the beach while our mother reminded us not to put our fingers on the prints.

Nowadays, we use digital cameras. I have to admit they are very efficient. You snap the picture and instantly know whether you got your finger in the photo.  Instant editing, instant sharing with a simple download to your computer.

Well, anyways, I found the film and had this vague memory that there was a photo of the kinder folk on one of the rolls of them sitting in a pile of autumn leaves.  I did not want those rolls to get lost in the flux of our lives right now and took them down to our local Rite-Aid for developing. 

Used to be that getting your film developed in 24 hour ( give or take delivery time) was quite the convenience. Now you can have your photos developed in an hour. The clerk offered the one hour option to me.

And I declined.

Sometimes it can be okay to wait.  I could have taken the one hour option and had that treasured moment in my hands instantly. The quality would probably not be a nice but there are always reprints.  I could have dropped the photos off, gone to knitting group and picked the photos up afterwards. 

But, this is my thinking...as a culture we have sped things up too quickly. Drive through anything. Instant credit meant we could have anything instantly whether we could really afford it or not.  I remember of the long lines of parents and children impatiently waiting for the next Harry Potter book at midnight because they could not wait till morning to have it.

If there is one thing I have learned as a homesteader is that this lifestyle functions on a continuum. From the first seed planted in the spring to the last potato dug from the ground there is a process. Food doesn't appear instantly on a shelf. A barn is not magically dropped on the ground. Living within ones means means waiting until you can afford it.  Big green sweaters don't knit themselves overnight. 

So I can wait a few more days for the photo. 

Oh and I had the photo put on a disk so I can download it and share it ..so you'll have to wait with me;)


Wendy said...

I actually have four of those little cannisters sitting on my desk with film waiting to be developed. I look at them every day, and think, "Today I'll take them in", but I never do. I don't know when the pictures were taken, but we've had a digital camera since my eight year old was a baby, and so they're pretty old, I imagine. Maybe you've given me the little push I need to do it ... today. Maybe I'll take the hour option and take my girls to the library while we wait ;).

Of course, your point is well taken. We have become a society full of people who can not wait ... for anything. I witnessed it with my granddaughter's birth, when my son-in-law kept encouraging my daughter to have the baby already. The woman in the room next door arrived later than they, but delivered earlier, and I kept wanting to tell him that having babies is not a "first come first serve" deal.

Lynne S of Oz said...

Speed is not everything! A Slow Life can be more fun :-)
(Found your blog randomly - Ravelry? Enjoying reading it :-)

Kathy said...

Waiting patiently! I agree, life is too speedy for me and I long for days gone by when a leisurely Sunday was church in the morning and long, interesting visits with relatives over dinner. And beach days... the kind that you could leave for early in the morning and return sometime late in the day. No hurry. No worry about what needs to be done and how fast to do it.

I've finished up the developing of canister films ... I kind of miss the excitement of the wait. And I remember well the kiosk in West Peabody. I thought I might like to work there. lol