Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

I’m almost finished with the photo album of our trip through the Panama Canal, which took place this past January.

For most trips, I merely put the photos in an album and considered the project done. But last year I added commentary to our Alaskan trip and set a precedent for future travel memories. I’m not sure it’s a good one, because it tends to turn a simple project that was fun into something like a homework assignment. This is why it’s taken my almost three months to put our memories into a book.

Earl and I have filled several albums, not only with trips to Costa Rica, cruises through the Caribbean, and visits to friends and family, but also of bicycle trips, birthday celebrations, weddings, and holiday gatherings. Earl is a camera sort of guy.

In addition, each of us inherited albums from our parents that chronicled their own lives and times. Both Earl’s father and my mother were religious about identifying the people in their snapshots, and it is helpful on that rare occasion where we thumb through those dusty albums.

It is a chore to label everything; and, if our children look at our albums when we have gone to the great Photo Studio in the Sky as often as we study our parents’ books, then I’m not sure all the labeling is worth it.

Instead, I think I’ll opt for just putting the next batch of photos in an album and challenging Earl and me to recall where we were and when, rather than having all the details readily available. That’s a great way of reliving the trip too.