my earliest memory blog | my earliest memory blog
Jul.30.2010
With the scent of lemon drops in my nose and the taste of their sugary tartness in my mouth, I started across the highway. The cars were going fast that early Sunday morning in Santa Monica as I, an intrepid two year old, crossed Pacific Coast Highway dressed in my bedclothes, a diaper and teeshirt...
|
Jul.30.2010
Memories from my childhood only come back to me in bits and pieces like interrupted dreams.People and places pop in and out of my mind for reasons I do not try to analyze. Sometimes wise words of of wisdom that came from adult relatives pop into my mind. They are words of wisdom that were...
|
Jul.30.2010
Hands.
I was delivered into hers at three weeks. She took me home— 688 miles from my cord. They left it; no wonder I am pulled north.
She strung leis, double strand Orchid leis, for Tropical of California. Her hands as big as plates. At night she would sew by the light of the tv, Lawrence Welk...
|
Jul.30.2010
Journeys of the Heart
“You may forget the one with whom you have laughed, but never the one with whom you have wept.”~ Kahlil Gibran
Laughter is a wonderful thing, but a good cry is the way I cleanse the clutter from my soul.
My empathic penchant for sad movies about heroines who die began in 1946...
|
|
Jul.30.2010
It just happened days ago...
I am a college student in Cyprus and the culture is really diferent than where I grew up. I as born in Yaounde, Cameroon (Central Africa) and I received a complete French education. That included drinking milk with bread as a breakfast. At home, we used to drink a...
|
Jul.30.2010
White Shaft: <> Silver on black Tick . . . tick . . . tick <> Pin Point! Silver <> Black Tick --...
|
Jul.29.2010
Earliest Memory. I remember an action figure. Major Matt Mason. An astronaut. Like G.I. Joe but better.
As I remember it, my Major Matt Mason wore an orange spacesuit and had a white helmet. I recall moving the visor up and down on that helmet, though I don’t know if I really did that....
|
Jul.29.2010
I lived in the house on Watts Street in Jackson, Michigan from the age of one until about four, and it's there that I have my earliest memories. I remember our dog being hit by a car because, as my father said, "he didn't look both ways before crossing the street". I remember seeing...
|
Jul.29.2010
Something unexpected happened, after I posted a suggestion for a Red Room blog topic, five months ago.
Well, two things. The first one: My proposal, to write about our earliest memories, became this week's blog topic. And my memoir Accordion Dreams is among the prizes to be given to the...
|
Jul.29.2010
I have no recollection of my birthday the year I turned three, but compared to my memories of the weeks that followed, it was either unmemorable, or it fell as a casualty in the preparation process for Dam Days. I will never know.
However, I do know that two years earlier, on my first...
|