I have a memory of being a little girl. We lived in the tropics when I was very small. It made my naturally curly blond hair spring into ringlets all around my head. The Puerto Ricans loved to touch and "sproing" my curls. Every time we went to town my head was petted, fondled, and my hair was pulled. I'm guessing that white blond curls were not to common in Puerto Rico.
I remember going to Pigeon Park (I'm quite certain that is not the real name of the park, but that is what I called it) and getting separated from my mom. She tells me that I never got lost, so I probably just could not see her, but she could see me. There was a little boy, older than me, so maybe 4 or 5, who kept pulling my hair. I just remember some little boy pulling my hair, and not knowing where my mom was.
I also remember I had a necklace with a small ceramic shaped like a wooden shoe. It was white and had blue windmill on it. I remember being someplace with my friend Amanda-panda-pooh. (yes, that was what I named her. Hey - I was a kid!) She also had a matching necklace, so obviously, our mothers bought them together. I remember she and I walking our shoes up and down on a table.
I remember being on a walking bridge and looking down between the wooden slats at ducks swimming under.
Then I remember leaving the warm and moving to the cold. I remember the 1st time I stepped off the plane going from the warm humid tropics to the sub zero freezing cold, and it was so cold that I couldn't breath.
We moved before I turned 4 so I was pretty young when all those things happened. I remember a lot of those earlier days. But I don't remember most of my junior high days. Strange.
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4 comments:
See... this makes me want to just interview you and poke around in your brain for a while. Where did you go that it was so cold?
Montana in December! 80 degrees to way below freezing!
Oh holy crap, Montana is fucking freezing during winter.
And now I've got that in my head:
There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid.
I grew up having that said to me. Makes me worry... was I the very very good, or was I the horrid?
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