Autobiography Memories in old photographs

THE STORY
Frame 1 I wake up under the heaviest blanket. My parents are asleep in the bed on the other side of the room. My brother is asleep in the crib at the end of their bed. Ive been sleeping in this bed since before he was born. I crawl out from under the sheets and slip into my clothes, then quietly sneak towards the door so as not to wake anyone up. Frame 2 There is nothing I can do about the creaking stairs in my grandparents house, so I descend quickly. I enjoy being the first one up in the house, especially with each room packed with sleeping people. Everyones come up to Grannys to see the Byrnes over from New York. In a few hours the house will burst with energy, but as for now, Ill get to watch some Batman on TV and eat my bowl of cornflakes in peace.

My favorite part of our long summer trips to Ireland: walking about helping Grandpa on his daily routine around the farm. The sun is shining, the temperature is a lovely 17 degrees out and everything is soaking wet. We first stop by the barn, open the giant doorway only a crack, Oscar comes shooting out of the dark to welcome us a good morning. I love the dog, but he isnt a fan of my cousins or me taking up Grandpas attention. Frame 6 I climb up and sit on top of the fence next to Grandpa to check on the cattle. I see twenty four, I say before he could ask me how many I could count. Ive only got twenty three. I scan the herd again, concentrating harder. I count only twentytwo, Yup, twenty-three cows. After dinner, were going to move them down the field nearer the house, so they can get some fresh grass to eat, says Grandpa, but first we have to feed the hens. Frame 7 Were in the hen house nearest the barn, the office area. Grandpa leans over the counter, looks through his notebook filled with chicken-scratch writing, mumbles some numbers underneath his breath. I crack open the door to the next room and a million clucking voices rise up in excitement. Oscar pokes at the back of my legs. Hed give anything for a peek inside, but I know better then to let him loose among the rows of cages. With a whistle from Grandpa, the dog backs off and sits. Frame 8 Once inside, I collect the eggs in cardboard trays starting on the far end of the house. Im too small for the spider-webs to bother me. My eyes watch the ground for the giant drainage openings at the ends of the aisles. As I turn the corner, I raise my head and greeted by the cocked head of a curious chicken. Theres one free! I shout. And with a ba-cock the chicken is off down the aisle trying as hard as any chickens tried, to fly. Just as I catch up with her, Grandpa grabs her by the head and tucks her under-

CONCEPT
As a kid I spent nearly every summer visiting my grandparents in Ireland. Here I am attempting to give the feeling of reminiscing through old photographs. Using photos Ive taken on recent visits as backgrounds, the memories are represented as black and white drawings running through the stills. The story is a compilation of many different days and activities, adding up to quite an adventure. Told with voice over, the video would not only convey nostalgia, but the beauty of the Irish landscape and the exciting experiences of a city boy visiting the country side.

Frame 3 As I open the door to the kitchen I realize Im not the only one awake. Grandpa is moving around the kitchen, a cup of tea already poured on the table. I help him get Grannys breakfast and put it on a tray. Every morning he brings her breakfast while shes still in bed. I hold the door as he balances the tray and heads upstairs. I head over to the TV and pray that cartoons would be on one of the three TV channels. Frame 4 As I take my first spoonful of cornflakes, Grandpa walks back into the kitchen and takes his seat at the head of the table. He grabs the Rice Krispies, pours in half a bowl, eyes the box of cornflakes and empties it on top of the Rice Krispies. Then he scrapes out the pot of porridge he had made for Granny, pours a little milk, and spills a little sugar on the whole bowl. Thats disgusting, I blurt, as he takes a big soggy bite. Frame 5

Autobiography Memories in old photographs

neath his arm. He locates a cage and puts her back in. I silently thank God that I dont have to actually touch the chicken. Frame 9 After the eggs are collected and the hens are fed, we go back into the office so that the eggs could be counted. Each trays got 36, each stack has 12 trays, there are three stacks; thats how many eggs? I stare at Grandpa blankly. Thats 1,296 eggs. What about these ones? I ask. Three eggs half the size of the others sit on the counter next to me. We cant sell those. You can have them. Paint them when you go back to the house. Frame 10 My face splits with a grin. I feel like Ive won the grand prize. But immediately the smooth shell of the eggs slips off the others and falls in an arc onto the concrete floor. Splat! Grandpa turns and scolds me almost as quickly as Oscar jumps at the opportunity to lap up the mess. Frame 11 We walk out into the sunlight and across the farmyard. I hurry to keep up with his big steps, but the Wellies dont make walking easy. We come to a fork in the road. Grandpa turns towards the hen house. Hes about to repeat the last hour of collecting and counting eggs all over again. I dont think that I can make it through all that clucking again and head down towards the house. Frame 12 My cousins come pouring out the backdoor, my aunt shoo-ing them from behind. Dinners to be in half an hour, and were not allowed inside until then. Theres Mathew, Katie, Sean, Claire, and my brother Rory. Frame 13 We walk around side of the house that looks out onto the field the cows would be moved to. Whats down there? asked Katie, of the opening at the far end of the field. It looked as if it just led into

another field. I dunno, Ive never been down there, I respond. Wanna go on a march? We can explore the land! Frame 14 Everyone says yes in unison and we run and climb up and over the fence. As we drop, we sink a little bit into the muddy grass. This poses no problems for me, but Im the only one with Wellies! Never the less we start the march to the end of the field, single file, trying to lift our legs high as we go, but the ground is too muddy. Theres just the suction cup noise of shoes being pulled out of the ground and the plopping back down. Katie and Claire really want to sing a song, but none of us boys are in the mood. They sing with out us. We make our way along the edge of the field, near the hedge where there are rocks and we jump from one to the other to keep our feet from sticking to the mud. With my Wellies I can walk anywhere, but as the leader of this march, I have to watch out for my troops. We approach an opening in the ditch. We hear shouting, and as a unit, we turn and look. Frame 15 & 16 Uncle Kieran is running down the field towards us waving for us to come back. Oh no! Theyre on to us. Quick! Katie shouts and makes a dash for the opening. My Uncle comes and grabs as many little hands as he can fit into his own, scolds us of the dangers of the field and the mud and getting stuck and drowning. It doesnt really make any sense to be shouting, were only marching. Uncle Kieran scolds us some more as Katie rejoins the group, and then we follow him back up to the house, single file. Frame 17 Whats this one goin on about, anyways? Sean whispers to me. I shrug my shoulders and make a funny face. Theres another field, Katie whispers.

Frame 18 They probably go on forever, always the first with something to say, Sean answers. No, thats the last one. Oh. Frame 20 Its about an hour after dinner, its time to move the cows. Everyone has their Wellies on: Grandpa, my da, three uncles, and my cousins, Matt and Sean. All the women, and my brother Rory, cause hes so little, stay inside. The new field, and the field the cows are in, are blocked off by a gate or my uncles holding huge walking sticks. Matt. Sean and I have sticks as well, and were deeply engaged in a sword fight when we hear an eruption of disgruntled moooooooooos .The cows come out of the first field at a trot, bumping into each other and letting the world know how unhappy they are that Grandpa is chasing them out from the shadows of a tree. Oscar barks madly, but he keeps his distance. Granny told me he once got kicked by one of the cows for being cheeky. Frame 21 Theres one cow that manages to break free from the rest of cattle, and is trying his luck at safety somewhere else. That ones getting away, I shout and grab my cousins by their shirts and start running towards it. Frame 22 We circle around front and jump up and down, waving and banging our sticks. The cow, terribly frightened, jumps around and Oscar runs up barking for the cow to get back in line. We give chase until the cow runs into the new field. Frame 23 The three of us climb up to the top of the fence as the rest of the cattle make their way into the field, and all the gates are clanged shut.

Autobiography Memories in old photographs

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