Tag Archives: old writing series

Old Writing: Part 24::On Growing Up

I remember writing this — it was after seeing the Disney documentary Beaver Valley. I also think I did a report on beavers and must have been fascinated that their parents kicked them out of the lodges after a certain age.

English 3-4
Period 4
May 2, 1973

On Growing Up

Now, when I look back, I had a great childhood. Of course, at the time I thought being a beaver kit was the worst thing in the world to be — so much to learn about building lodges and dams, caring for a family and such. I also thought, then, how wonderful it would be to be grown up — a two year old beaver — and be free. Free? If one is free, one can be anywhere, can’t one? I have been thrown out of my home. I must fend for myself now, build a new lodge somewhere — but far away from the family.

My sister — Cathy — had the good sense to leave before she was humiliated by being kicked out of her own home, by her own parents.

Well, enough feeling sorry for myself, I had better eat something so I have the strength to build my lodge. That looks like a tender tree over there.

Mmmm, it is tender — and sweet, and ……

“Hello.”

Who is that? Oh, a beaver, probably wants to steal my tree.

“Hi.”

Hey, it’s a girl! Gosh she’s cute, look at that tail, great shape.

“That looks like a tasty tree.”

“Want some? It is really very good — sweet, like you.”

Oh why did I have to say that? I’ve made her blush, now she will leave.

“Sure, thank you. Mmmm, it is good. Tender — like you.”

Oh, wow! I think I am in love.

“What is your name? Mine is Christopher Q. Williams. Q stands for Quincy.”

Now why did I have to go and tell her my middle name? She will laugh at me.

“I’m Marie G. Larson. The G’s for Gertrude.”

Hmm — she has a dumb middle name like me. Well, here goes, I will ask her for a date.

“Are you doing anything tonight? Do you want to help me build a lodge?”

The most she can do is refuse.

“I’m not doing anything, and I’d love to build a lodge with you.

She didn’t refuse!

“I’ll pick you up at seven, okay?”

“Oh, that’ll be fine.”

What a beautiful smile! Now I know I’m in love. I guess growing up isn’t so bad after all.

Old Writing: Part 23::The Littlest Dancer

No clue what age. Grade school. (I hope).

The Littlest Dancer

Once there was a girl at the age of five. She wanted to be a ballet dancer more than anything else in the whole world but her mother and father were much too poor to let her take dancing lessons.

Amy, which was her name, stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Amy thought she could watch T.V. and learn ballet that way so she turned it on and her father came in and turned it off and said, “That is enough of your playing with the T.V. set.”

When bedtime came, Amy went upstairs and got dressed but she did not go right to sleep. Instead, she lay awake thinking.

The next morning she said, “Please let me go to dancing lessons. Please!”

“NO! You know we don’t have enough money to spend on silly old ballet classes.”

“But…” Her mother stopped her in the middle of the sentence.

“NO! NO! NO!” her mother said.

So that night she ran away. Her mother was terrified. She fainted so her husband woke her up and comforted her. They called the missing persons department.

“My child is gone. Can you find her? She has brown hair and wants to learn ballet very much. Can you help us find her?” said her father.

“Yes we know just the place to look, ballet school,” said the missing persons police officer.

So they looked there and she was there. They took her home and paid the people and Amy got to go to ballet school and when she was all done she came home with a lot of money and you might see her someday doing ballet.

Old Writing: Part 22::My First Hour (this morning)

Probably 6th grade again.

My First Hour (this morning)

I opened my eyes and recalled my dream I had the night before. Then my dad walked in my room to see if I was awake or not. I pretended I was asleep (although he always seems to know I am really awake).

He told me to get up. I did not stir. Then my mom walked through the door (she thought I was still asleep) and said, “GET UP!” I got up and went into the kitchen. I still was in my PJs because when my dad leaves for work he always lights his pipe and I hate the smell of it, especially when I am eating. But my mom told me to get dressed before I ate. So I hurried up and got dressed so I wouldn’t have to smell any of my dad’s pipe when I was eating. I put on a blue plaid skirt but I couldn’t decide what blouse to wear so I decided on the short sleeve one and a sweater.

I made it out to eat just before my dad finished eating so I didn’t have to smell his pipe after all.

I had Rice Krispies with my brother. He talked about his worms all during breakfast. That turned my stomach.

After all that I went in and brushed my teeth and my retainer and washed my face with Noxema. My dad made a smart remark about the smell.

When I left I forgot my shorts and shirt so I had to go back and get them.