Friday, December 24, 2010

Remembering 7

Why, what do we have here?
A journal!
And not just any journal - a journal from 20 years ago, written in the fine hand of a 7-year-old gal /clearing throat to draw attention to self;
...a patriotic gal, at that (this was just before my family left the States). Isn't my phonetic spelling wonderful? What about my report on having studied my scriptures and brushed my teeth? I included such in almost every entry...(methinks this has much to do with the practice of writing in bed each night...and therefore looking upward, recalling the day, and recalling the most recent events very well).

Some notes:
  • "Barbea tronk" = Barbie trunk - the trunk (boot, for Kiwis) of my latest prized gift, a pink Barbie convertable. My parents have a photo of me holding the plastic sports car up after having just opened it, smiling so hard that the veins in my neck are popping out.
  • I like the way I directly address the reader in the close (with a familiar tone, no less), "And you know Friday was my Birthday."

  • Would anyone like to venture a guess as to what "Cavuds" are?
  • I regularly included illustrations - to keep the reader happy, I presume...or perhaps just because I liked to draw. Actually, I think I had a goal to fill up this diary so that I could have a different diary that I liked more at the time (I think my mother had purchased a small stack, but she told me I had to fill up this one's funny, because this embossed greenie is my favourite now)...I think the pictures were an effort to discreetly pump through its pages. Later, I begin writing in brutish capitals, without shame.
Which brings me to the "troling" I wish to close with, this Christmas Eve;

Aw. Signed by the artist and everything (as though I feared the integrity of my work might someday be compromised).

Merry Christmas!
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