It’s late, and it’s already been a long week, this whole 24 hours into it thing.
I used to ask for one-word prompts in comments on my old blog, and how the words would fly around them. I asked for a prompt tonight from Q, and I had only the energy to search my archives for a post that may have used it. Close enough. Today’s one-word prompt: soft, post dated March 2007.
[missing photo...argh]
I don’t know how Churlita has all those old photos of her family posted to her blog all the time. I don’t have the patience to scan in my pictures from 1968 to the present. This one is the only digital image I have. 1970. Rocking the tangerine bunny overalls and the lemon yellow turtleneck.
This was taken while we were living in Boston right before we were headed back home to Texas. If I can get the story right, we were living in a basement apartment of the married couples’ dorm. It was at the bottom of a big hill. We have pictures of my older brother sledding down the hill. We also have summer pictures of us on that same hill having a little family picnic. I remember none of this. My actual memory, not flashes of intermittent images, begins around age three, maybe a little before.
My father’s first church was called South Park Community Parish. What a great name, eh? My dad has always been quite ecumenical and inclusive. “Parish”, to me, is warmer and more welcoming than “church”. Church can bite my butt. However, I can imagine singing softly to myself inside a parish. Blessed Assurance was my favorite hymn. I could also belt out a mean Battle Hymn of the Republic. Brandishing bayonets in the name of God with that kick-ass tune being played behind you? Victory was at hand, dude. Victory was at hand.
Earliest and best childhood memories in comments. Extra points to the ones who can still play Für Elise on piano or Twinkle, Twinkle on the violin. I still know my first chair saxophone “Star Wars” music. Every school band in the world was rocking the John Williams back in the day.
I spent so much time mining my early childhood memories for my MFA that I don’t have any of them in my mental files anymore. They’re all trapped on my computer.
But I love that pic of you in the jumpsuit. It’s totally cute.
How did you know which memories to use and which ones to toss aside, never to be thought of again? Drooling over your MFA…
My earliest memory was when I was about 2, living in a condo on Presque Isle w/my parents and Aunt. It was especially bright and no one had any hair. (I’m assuming they did, but my brain says no) I woke up and went to the kitchen and everyone was eating cookies. That set the pace for the rest of my life…pastries for breakfast.
Parents eating cookies for breakfast is my kind of parents!
My sister and I used to throw kitchen knives at each other. We called it playing circus. One of us would stand against the wall and the other would throw steak knives! lol
In our house, not much damage could come from plasticware.
I vividly remember when you first posted this. It remains one of my favorite blog posts ever, by anyone.
What a fantastic compliment, Erica. Thank you.