Was going through a drawer last night and came upon some of my old school papers. Wish I had kept more of them but over the years when the "cleaning bug" strikes I tend to throw out things.
One of the funniest things I read was an old "My Autobiography" essay that must have been required of us. The year stated 1976.
"I live at (my address)." I stopped and laughed. Because (my address) is the exact same today as I live in my childhood home.
"My favorite T.V. show is "The Six Million Dollar Man". This kind of surprised me. And as I looked up on my DVD shelf what did I see? The Six Million Dollar Man complete series!
I found several notes that my sister had written to my father.
"Dad,you can have this candy because I don't like it. By"
"Dad,I found your shoes in the familee room here thay ar"
"Dear Dad,How are you? Don't you wish we had a tape recorder? You cant keep this letter in your file because I want to keep it in a little box. So I can remeber it too. Maybe I can coppy it and give you one just like it. I will write mom tomaroo or maybe today. Don't let brenda see this letter or she will lagph about my spelling and I don't like it so by by! I might let you keep it in your file. byby!"
My father had a filing cabinet and would always file our drawings or little things like this,lol. I didn't remember laughing at my sister's spelling back then...what a mean little sister I must have been :)
Found quite a few "Santa" and "Easter Bunny" letters my parents kept.
Plese leav us some games and crafts and toys and plese fill our stockings full to the top. And Santa dont forget we have some guddys for you when you go out. And you can help yourself if you are hungngry but you dont have to eat. And we may have some cind of a drink for you. If you have room in the sley bring some cokies for Mrs. Santa."
Guess you can figure out who wrote that,lol.
A trip down memory lane is fun once in awhile.
As June approaches I am reminded of the 2 bulging binders full of notes and letters my sister and I used to write to each other during the long summers. I mean,here we were in the same house but we used to like to type on my mom's old Underwood typewriter. We'd each take turns and then read each other's letters and laugh. Or we'd go out in my father's art studio and spend hours making puppets and things out of construction paper. Then we'd bring it all inside and try to sell it to my mom and dad,lol.
My father had an old AM radio out there and many times we'd be out there with him working at our little table while he was in front of the easel. "Saturdays With Sinatra" would be playing. It was like a scene out of the 50's,lol,though it was the 70's. We've always been 20 years behind!
The studio has gone quiet now. My father is still there in spirit among his paintings. I rarely go in there anymore. The orange tree that was planted when I was born still stands beside it. I look out in the backyard and can almost see my father in there once again in the window with his gray smock on,the odor of paint and turpentine faintly in the air.
Some things never do change. Especially if you live in the same house.
And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.