My father was a passionate photographer. The photographs he took of us show those of a happy childhood. 1969 – We visited our grandmother in Friesland for a few days. She lived in Tjalleberd near Heerenveen. It’s rural village that threads through green farmland like beads on a string. My brother and I went out fishing along the canal, we found a lapwing chick in the field and played bullfights in our grandmother’s yard. That was a good time.
