Crazy week, crazy life

As I said, I had a crazy week last week, but every day gets crazier. I'm taking a break at the moment from trying to get a photography class together. I'm not a photographer, but my friend asked me to teach a photography class with her local ICA group tomorrow night. (For those of you who don't know about the ICA, its the Irish Countrywomen's Association, the oldest women's group in Ireland. Politically it used to hold a lot of clout but today it is renowned for its grannies, baking and of course, knitting). She wants a very basic class, not in the workings of a digital camera but how to take photos. I take photos, a lot of photos, even before I went digital. I have 4 old suitcases of photos under my sons bed. He's not old enough to complain about it yet, thankfully. I take photos for me, not anyone else, for colour and texture. But now I have to go into a class of elderly women (bar my friend) and explain how to take photos? When I came back from Finland with 35 rolls of film, my sister just said, no way, make a photo album of the best or I wont look at any. (She still never got through the album). Its funny, because its not something I ever really thought about before. I'm trying to get it finished tonight so I can sleep, because I wont sleep until I have it done. It makes me wish I had a Flickr Pro account with all my photos organised into Compositional Folders, of Perspectives and Rule of Thirds... instead of oddments, textiles and crochet!!

So, why do you take photos, and what do you do with them?