Days 4-6

Jan. 19th, 2008 01:22 pm
bironic: Neil Perry gazing out a window at night (memoryfest - honeysuckle)
[personal profile] bironic
What's this?

4. Elementary School/Middle School

The summer after fifth grade, our family took a trip out west to visit some national parks. On the flight out to Albuquerque, I was reading a Star Trek: The Next Generation paperback (I remember the books I packed about as well as the trip itself) about Tasha Yar that included a lot of unofficial backstory. There was a scene close to the beginning where young Tasha was kidnapped by a group of hooligans on her home planet and raped, or nearly raped. I remember reading that scene—not explicit at all, this was a YA book, but it hinted at enough—and blushing bright red, as though the people in the airplane seats around me could tell what I was reading.



5. Elementary School

The fields at our elementary school where we would have recess after lunch on fair-weather days was lined with trees and shrubs, some of which bloomed small white or yellow flowers. The girls called it honeysuckle. It may have been. Some days, we would walk out to the edge of the field and pick the flowers, squeeze them and drink the tiny drops inside.

What I liked better than those were these weeds that grew on the field and in the sidewalks. I don't know what kind they were, but they had these spongy, conical, goldenrod … blooms, I guess, about the size of a pinky fingernail, that smelled strong and sweet when I punctured it, and that always remind me of pineapple even though they don't exactly smell like it. They'd stain my fingernails yellow if I picked at too many of them, and my fingers would smell of them for the rest of the day. I remember one particular time when we were walking from our school up the road to another school to practice for a "marathon," and pulling one of the weeds from a sidewalk crack and sniffing it the whole way there.

ETA: OMG! In searching for pictures of honeysuckle, I found these: http://www.wildflowersofontario.ca/pineappleweed.html And look: "When crushed this plant produces a pineapple odour, hence the name." Ha! Mystery solved.



6. Elementary School (hm, I seem to be stuck in an era here)

I remember several sleepover parties from elementary school and middle school. At one of them, at my friend K.'s house, what I remember is sharing around a few bowls of Pop Secret popcorn—back in the days when they came in different colors, and you never knew what color each bag would be (hence, "Secret")—in big plastic bowls, while watching a movie—Uncle Buck with John Candy, maybe—that had a scene in a bar/strip club and a topless woman with stars stuck over her nipples.

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 06:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] phinnia.livejournal.com
Flowers: My father used to "steal" lilacs from a bush belonging to one of my cousins (it was in her backyard but the blooms stuck out over the fence). We also have photographic evidence of him "stealing" my aunt's strawberries. Petty theft apparently runs in my family.

Sleepovers: I remember watching some iteration of Friday the Thirteenth (or maybe it was Nightmare on Elm Street the Somethingth?), falling asleep and having my underwear frozen because I was the first to fall asleep. Kids are weird.

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 06:55 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
If my aunt or my neighbor grew strawberries, I'd definitely steal them too. Yum.

Frozen underwear?! Eek. How is that done?

Most of the pranks I remember from sleepovers were done while people were awake, often as part of "Truth or Dare." Once, my friends "spilled" nail polish on the host's mother's new carpet, but it was really one of those fake spills from a gag shop made of plastic. Her mom came downstairs and freaked out, and they all laughed, and I think after she was done having a heart attack she laughed too.
Edited Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 06:57 pm (UTC)

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 07:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] phinnia.livejournal.com
My birthmother squirted my favorite sweatshirt with disappearing ink on April Fool's day when I was ten. (She also got me to lick a nine volt battery without telling me what would happen and fed me venison jerky without telling me what it was. *eyeroll* Yeah, family.)

The frozen underwear is the spare set, not the ones you're wearing - basically they just wet them and stick them in the freezer.

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 08:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thirdblindmouse.livejournal.com
One April Fool's day in middle school a kid from my class got disappearing ink on a library book I was reading. I don't know that he meant to (probably just sloppy aim), but it gave me a bad shock. Later that day I dumped a cupful of water on him. I was a quiet kid (frequently got asked the obnoxious "Can you talk?", which I answered with annoyed glares), but I could vindictive.

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:50 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Later that day I dumped a cupful of water on him.

Excellent. Love it.

All these adventures with disappearing ink -- is it guaranteed to disappear? Would you know before dumping some on a book or a sweatshirt that the prank's not going to misfire (i.e. stain)?

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 08:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thirdblindmouse.livejournal.com
I remember in seventh grade getting teased for reading books with sex scenes. An eighth grader friend of mine was gushing over "Wicked", which she had just read, and blushingly admitting it had explicit sex scenes, and I made the mistake of remarking that they weren't particularly more explicit than the scenes in a lot of other books. Mind you, she's the one who corrected my pronunciation of "whore" when we were in fifth and sixth grade. (I'd only ever read it, so until she corrected me I'd thought it was a homophone of "war" rather than of "hoar". Ever since then I've been hyperaware of the sounds of the opening lines of "Evangeline".)

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 08:52 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Heh. My tenth grade English teacher once told me to stop reading porn (jokingly, but she had a very dry delivery). I was reading The English Patient at the time and had just finished The Thorn Birds because my mom had made me watch the miniseries with her.

That class also had a lot of instances like the one you describe, of humorous mispronunciation. Well, that was mostly a small group of us clustered in desks against the wall rather than the whole class, but there were things like "heretofore" -- my friend thought it was her-ET-uh-for -- and colonel (you can guess).

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 09:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thirdblindmouse.livejournal.com
I can remember for a lot of words the occasion on which I learned the correct pronunciation. For "colonel" it was my father reading aloud "Tintin and the Broken Ear". Because he read the Tintin books aloud to me, I am always startled to hear people pronounce the character's name as if it were an English word.

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elynittria.livejournal.com
Tintin! I love those books. I've always had a crush on the Captain. I probably pronounce his (i.e., Tintin's) name wrong, though, since I've never heard it out loud.
Edited Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:53 am (UTC)

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:53 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Aw. So it'll always be tanh tanh to you?

I remember several as well. One that's coming to mind right now is the moment (in that same English class) when I learned that sonofagun, which I'd come across in some Star Trek paperback, was not the strange term "sun-OFF-uh-gun" but the regular old phrase all stuck together as one word.

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 05:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thirdblindmouse.livejournal.com
So it'll always be tanh tanh to you?

Yes. Tinn tinn sounds like "Rin-tin-tin", which I'm not familar with except as sounds, which I then associate with Rikki-tikki-tavi. The mind is a twisty place, and it all leads to mongooses in the end.

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 07:26 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Hee. Rikki-tikki-tavi sends me to the children's book about the kid named... was it Rikki-tikki-tembo-no-sa-rembo-cherry-berry-ruchi-pip-perry-...pembo? Something about him falling down a well and his name took so long to say that it took a while to get him help. Or something.

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 08:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thirdblindmouse.livejournal.com
Wow, that's quite some memory. I remember that children's book too, but I wouldn't have if you hadn't first.

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 09:35 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
The rhythm and repetition make it easier to remember, I think. Heh. I have a vague memory of reading it or picking it up at our public library, along with audio book combo packs of things like Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 10:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thirdblindmouse.livejournal.com
An audio book of picture books? That's so wrong!

Date: Jan. 23rd, 2008 04:39 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
It was more of a listen-as-you-read deal. The books did have some narration, even though the art was the best part. So I guess you'd listen to the story and look at the pictures...?

Date: Jan. 23rd, 2008 10:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thirdblindmouse.livejournal.com
But isn't the point of picture books to facilitate reading?

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 11:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mer-duff.livejournal.com
Forever was all the rage when I was in Grade 7 and we passed a copy around the class. I don't actually remember it being all that racy or explicit, but my mother caught me reading it one night when he bridge club was over and made me stand in the middle of the living room while she judged for herself. Of course it opened immediately to the only interesting sex scene, but that's what we read over and over...

She once told me that when she was first married, she was reading The Carpetbaggers in bed and had to keep nudging my father awake to ask him what certain words meant. I remember reading the book when I was 13 or 14 and I couldn't for the life of me figure out which words she didn't understand!

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:53 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Hee! We are just too literarily sophisticated for our parents.

That first situation sounds absolutely mortifying, though. I shudder in sympathy.

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:58 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elynittria.livejournal.com
Hee! I sort of had the opposite experience. Whilst exploring my parent's bedroom when I was a kid (I don't remember my exact age, but I was probably about 10), I found a very well-hidden and well-perused copy of Fanny Hill: Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure. Naturally, I borrowed it to read. What an eye-opener!

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 07:30 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Ooh, spicy. Heh - the only parents-and-sex connections I have are the birds and bees talk and watching my mom buy KY jelly at the pharmacy once.

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 11:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] daasgrrl.livejournal.com
Ha, The Thorn Birds is pretty damn porny, imo! I looove that book and mini-series (and Richard Chamberlain) in a really embarrassing way. I once pounced on and bought a second-hand copy only to discover later that I already owned one :)

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 07:29 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Heh. I've done that, although not with that particular book. My mom had a huge thing for Richard Chamberlain and was just devastated when she found out he was gay. Now we all make fun of her for it and she laughs too, but I think inside she's still upset. :D

Date: Jan. 22nd, 2008 12:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] daasgrrl.livejournal.com
You heartless fiends! *g*

I didn't have any particular emotional reaction to finding out he was gay, but I tend not to really register it because most of my fond memories are from pre-adolescence when I had no idea what being gay meant anyway. I think I first saw him as a little kid as the "handsome prince" in The Slipper and the Rose (yes, singing), and instantly adored him.

Some years ago I went to New York for a wedding and when I saw he was doing The Sound of Music I had to go. It was everything I usually hate in theatre performances - I had bought at the last minute, so was way over to the side, in the gods; it was a matinee, so there were talking school children galore; and the lady next to me kept singing along. And boy, did he look old. But I was instantly ten years old again, and the Handsome Prince was RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF ME and SINGING, and none of it mattered one bit XD

Date: Jan. 22nd, 2008 01:27 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (wilson embarrassed)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Awww. And, ha, my parents went to see that. In fact, it may have been in the car on the way in to the city that my mom heard the news via the friends they went with.

(Sorry for delay -- no LJ notifications today.)

4. Reading in the presence of others

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 10:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thewlisian-afer.livejournal.com
Whee. My memories tend to run long. So I'm going to post them as separate replies because I hate posting comments that run the risk of being too long to actually post. XD


Endangered Species by Ronnie Tanksley is surely one of the most poorly-written and even-more-poorly-edited books of all time. It is full of typos and plot holes and horrendous dialogue and ... ugh. I mean, the point of view and the verb tenses switch in the middle of paragraphs sometimes. It's just awful. It takes place locally, though, and the author is from the area. So when it was published in 1997, they made a big deal of it at the Barnes & Noble on Wolf Road in Albany. I'd heard about the book on the radio late one night and I was intrigued, so I convinced my parents to take me to the release/signing.

Several days later, I was sitting in the living room reading it and my mother asked what I was reading. I told her and she followed up her question with another. "What's it about?" Um... Well... It's about a boy who gets sexually abused on a regular basis and doesn't know who his abuser is. Normally, even at thirteen, I should've been able to say, "Child abuse" in such an offhand way that nobody would think twice about questioning why I was reading that or if I should be reading it. However, I was in the midst of being exposed to pegging for the first time in my life. I'd just read the part where the kid opened his parents' bedroom door and caught his mom fucking his dad in the ass. So my mother's question made me stutter and stammer which made her take the book and see what made me turn so red I was almost purple.

Needless to say, the book was confiscated and hidden. It was years before I found it again and actually read it. I kind of wish I hadn't. (There was no more pegging. Actually, I don't think there was any consensual sex at all after that...)

Re: 4. Reading in the presence of others

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 01:06 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Ohhhh, how embarrassing.

5. ...botany?

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 10:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thewlisian-afer.livejournal.com
I posted a memory about honeysuckle last year! (http://bironic.livejournal.com/65877.html?thread=770389#t770389) :D

One of my favorite spots in the world when I was little was this area at the edge of my yard. There's a big mulberry tree (which was the bane of my mother's existence when the berries were ripe because my clothes and I were constantly stained) and rowan bushes and sumac and some sort of shrubs with lots of thorns and ... all kinds of stuff! I could just squeeze through all the branches and crawl down the small embankment to an outcropping of shale where I'd sit and hide with books or a portable stereo or a notebook and pencil for hours. I loved it because even if my parents knew where I was, I was certain they would never be able to make me come out unless I wanted to. It was such a tight fit even for me, they had no chance of physically removing me. I always felt so safe.

Re: 5. ...botany?

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 01:09 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
That sounds lovely. We never had a real hiding place or secret spot in our backyards growing up. The closest we got was a small clearing off to the side of the yard when we moved houses, under an evergreen tree, but it was clearly visible from the house and not really a hiding place at all.

6. Questionable content at sleepovers

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 11:14 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thewlisian-afer.livejournal.com
In elementary school, I was the leader of a three-person clique which consisted of myself and my friends K and L. We had sleepovers as often as we possibly could, usually at L's house because her parents ran a small dairy farm and we loved having REALLY fresh milk with breakfast and L's mother made the most killer pancakes.

Anyway, as we got older, sometimes we'd invite other people to our sleepovers. (Including L's little sister A because I thought she was awesome. K and L did not agree but I was the fuckin' leader, betches! What I said went!) I remember when we were in seventh grade we were celebrating L's birthday so it was the three of us, A, and two other girls, C and A2. L expressed an interest in having a mini-marathon of horror films that she hadn't seen. We all thought this was a great idea and everybody was to bring along a video for us to watch.

The night of the sleepover, we'd already watched The Omen and The Exorcist and we'd moved on to The Amityville Horror, which was my pick. L's uber-religious mother happened to come downstairs to use the bathroom and she saw what we were watching and she FLIPPED. THE FUCK. OUT. She took all the videos away and, at 1 or 2 AM, gave us a long and preachy lecture about evil and corruption and how we were poisoning our minds by watching things like that. She even cried a bit during her tirade. We weren't even allowed to just put the videos back in our bags. She took them back upstairs with her and put them in her room so we couldn't get them and delivered them directly into the hands of our parents when we were picked up the next day.

Re: 6. Questionable content at sleepovers

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 01:10 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Were the pancakes worth the lecture? That is the real question.

OT: I used to be pretty bossy when I was a kid, too. I wonder what happened. :)

Re: 6. Questionable content at sleepovers

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 05:30 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thewlisian-afer.livejournal.com
You know what? They were. XD Breakfast was awkward as fuck that day, but we didn't stop doing our sleepovers there most of the time.

I dunno about you but when I stopped being bossy I started being manipulative. XD I still stayed mostly in charge but I learned to get people to do what I wanted them to do by subtle suggestions and psychology instead of by putting my hands on my hips and shouting orders. hahahaha

Re: 6. Questionable content at sleepovers

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 07:31 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Huh. That's actually a good point. *new avenues for introspection*

Date: Jan. 19th, 2008 11:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mer-duff.livejournal.com
Reading on the plane: When I was in Grade 11, my youth band went on a trip to California over spring break. My father got remarried the day everybody left, however, so I had to fly down by myself. I was doing my Latin homework on the plane, translating Catullus, I think, and the guy sitting next to me wanted to know what I was doing. When I showed him, he asked me to write a poem for him, because when he got off the plane the mob was going to kill him (or some other ridiculous story). He and his friends had been skiing at Whistler and they kept shouting, "Single!" randomly.

I guess I did look really young and naive for my age - I missed my bus connection from LAX and when I found a commissionaire to help me get another (I was close to panic by that time), he was concerned that I was too young to be traveling by myself - it turned out he thought I was 12.

Sleepover: When I was in primary school, I slept over at my friend P's quite often. After lights were out, her father would sneak outside her window and intone, "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of man? The Shadow knows. The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay!" Or he'd howl like a werewolf. It stopped scaring us after the first couple of times, but he kept doing it...

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 07:40 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Heh. From scary to annoying. Funny in the telling, though.

My dad was often incredibly annoying when I had sleepovers, all in the name of wanting to be involved -- stopping in to take pictures for posterity, that kind of thing -- not going into it or I'll get all agitated over again. :)

it turned out he thought I was 12.

Ah, yes, the trials of looking so much younger than you actually are. Some people here at work thought I was a high school intern when I started (at 22), and I still get it with some of the new people.

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 10:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mer-duff.livejournal.com
I still look relatively young for my age, which is not so much of a trial when you hit 40. One of the guys in my commnity band asked what I was studying in school the other day - once the surprise of that sunk in, I thanked him effusively :)

Date: Jan. 22nd, 2008 01:28 am (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
That must have been a great lift indeed! How nice.

People have mistaken my mom for my sister on occasion; it'll be nice to look young as I get older, but for now it can be annoying.

Sleepovers

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elynittria.livejournal.com
In grade school, I was involved with a group of girls who were really into sleepovers. They were big social events and a lot of fun, involving séances, Truth or Dare, telling urban horror stories, etc. So I was devastated when I was ostracized from the group after I skipped 6th grade. (Keller's speech in last night's SGA episode obviously helped bring back this memory!)

I eventually did get to participate in sleepovers again, though—as an adult. I was the sound technician for a folk dance performing group which traveled to various venues (schools, community theaters, etc.) to perform. If the venue was far away, we usually crashed for the night in either a gym or a motel. Gyms were best, though, since you could have one hell of a party in them, complete with live music, dancing, and (usually) a basketball game.

Edited to fix HTML tagging
Edited Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:52 am (UTC)

Re: Sleepovers

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 07:42 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
And now we have fandom sleepovers -- er, cons -- for extra-special esoteric fun. Heh.

The folk dance parties sound pretty awesome. I'd imagine you were exhausted afterwards, between the performances and the unofficial dancing/partying!

I didn't know you skipped a grade. That's pretty cool. (Or, wasn't it?)

Re: Sleepovers

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 09:28 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elynittria.livejournal.com
The folk dance parties sound pretty awesome. I'd imagine you were exhausted afterwards,

We were! I'd come home from a weekend's performance and just crash. At that time, I was still working in an office, so I dreaded Monday mornings. I was pretty much a zombie on many Mondays. (I guess that hasn't changed much over the years!)

I didn't know you skipped a grade. That's pretty cool. (Or, wasn't it?)

It was really weird, since the main reason it happened was because I was already attending math classes that were a grade above my current grade—and I'm absolutely hopeless in math. The school seemed to think that just because my older brother was a math genius, I must be one too. (I wasn't.) He ended up having to commute to high school for math classes when he was in 8th grade, and both the school and my parents didn't want to deal with that in my case, so they just moved me directly from 5th to 7th grade, where I totally failed math but excelled in reading and history, which were much more to my taste.

Other than the sleepover problem, it wasn't too traumatic socially, since most of the kids in the new grade were around the same age as I was. (Because of my November birthday, as I mentioned in a previous comment, I missed the cutoff date for starting first grade at the Catholic grade school and had to go to public school for a year first, so skipping a grade just undid that bureaucratic mess.)

Re: Sleepovers

Date: Jan. 23rd, 2008 04:43 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Oh, right; I'd forgotten you'd been a year "behind" at first because of having moved. (The same thing happened to my friend when she moved from Texas to New York, but it was good for me because that's how we met, only one grade apart instead of two. Heh.) That's funny about the skip being instigated by your math class when it was your weakest subject.

The only time I ever skipped a grade was in Hebrew school; I started late, in 5th grade, after the kids had already learned the alphabet and were doing the first half of the prayers. In 5th grade I took the 4th grade alphabet class, and the next I skipped up to the 6th grade with everybody else, since I had to be at the right level to prepare for bar/bat mitzvahs in 7th grade. So at first I was lost, but by the mid/end of the year I'd caught up and pushed ahead. Those classes weren't exactly challenging, nor the students motivated for the most part....

Re: Sleepovers

Date: Jan. 23rd, 2008 05:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] elynittria.livejournal.com
Actually, I was "behind" not because we moved (I was lucky enought to spend my entire childhood in the same house) but because the Catholic school had a rule that one had to be 6 years old as of the start of the school year in September in order to enroll; I didn't make the cutoff by a few months.

Re: Sleepovers

Date: Jan. 23rd, 2008 05:08 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Oops! Case in point of the unreliability of memory. :D

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 12:52 am (UTC)
ext_5724: (things lost)
From: [identity profile] nicocoer.livejournal.com
When we lived in the trailer in Washington, There was a dirt pile in the neighbor's field that had been there long enough for a small tree to grow on it and a bunch of plants, too. I remember getting up early on days when we didn't have school to go play on it with my brother. It was next to a pit where the dirt had been excavated from, and it was all behind the barn that marked off where our property and the neighbor's joined. We had pretty much free run so long as we didn't go into any of the fields that had livestock.

In any case, I remember running up that mound in the morning dew, laughing and smelling a mixture of Mustard seed and Pineapple weed, reaching up to grab the leaves off the little tree. They smelt like lemon and goodness, and it was actually a sassafras tree.

We were only allowed 30 min a peic of TV at that point, and we weren't allowed to watch Baywatch. I remember once sneaking out after my mother had stepped out and watching Baywatch all covertly with the sound extra low, hunched up and waiting for the sound of my mother coming back.

I have a third memory up on my LJ, but it's friends locked. At the women's shelter (http://nicocoer.livejournal.com/232907.html) Chronologically right before we moved into the trailer mentioned here. not terribly personal or anything, just a little on the long side.

Man lately a lot of my memories are from that time period.

Date: Jan. 20th, 2008 07:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] synn.livejournal.com
my elementary school had blackberries growing along the back fence bordering the recess grounds. Kids used to eat them during break too, except I was always afraid b/c I didn't know for sure if they were blackberries and if they weren't then they could be poisenous. plus, we weren't supposed to eat them, so of course I didn't.

But we had honeysuckle in out back yard in Texas -- it's one of the few things I miss about that place.

Date: Jan. 21st, 2008 07:32 pm (UTC)
ext_2047: (Default)
From: [identity profile] bironic.livejournal.com
Hello, you!

We had blackberry...things at summer camp at Caumsett or whatever park it was near where you lived, and we'd pick them when we were hiking or waiting to go home at the end of the day. I think I was hesitant about them too, but when the first few kids ate them and didn't die, I went along with it. They were pretty tasty, and soft and warm from the sun.

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