Thank goodness for metadata, and a computer which tells me when a photo was taken.
("We always say thank you for metadata" - The Information Management student in me).
Even while the years flash past, it's comforting to know that the rhythms of tradition give meaning to different seasons and stages.
The heart of winter is salami time. Nonna sends out the phone call announcement, someone old and responsible (obviously not me) organises the meat pickup from the butchers, a date is set, and various family members trickle in.
Even before the birth of the Cooking With Nonna project, I was there with my camera to capture a family tradition which has literally been carried from generation to generation, Italy to Australia.
Everybody has a part to play.
Everybody wants to do the taste test.
Some years the crowd is bigger than other years.
Then there was the year I wrote down the recipe for the first time ever, instead of taking our fresh supply of salami for granted (thank you Cooking With Nonna project).
In 2014 I missed my first salami making for years when I was away in far north places, but my supportive family sent me blurry mobile shots to make me jealous.
In fact, posting salami photos on social media and tagging absent relatives is becoming its own tradition.
Now, the salami photos include the next generation, which either means I'm getting old, or he's interested enough to play with pork meat and wear a cute apron.
Next winter, we won't have this shed to hang salami, or Nonna's familiar kitchen to gather in.
Changes are afoot, but the rhythms of seasons reliably push us into new experiences in new places. Until next year.