I’ve always loved school.

I played school when I was too young to have been in a classroom-even a preschool one.

I couldn’t wait.

I can still see the orange shag carpet and the corner where I pulled my first loose tooth, way too early.

I remember playing Farmer in the Dell, and David Ellis (no relation) was the cheese.

I cried in Kindergarten because I knew my name didn’t have any ‘r’.

I was called Maggie, and had perfectly no idea my name was Margaret.

On the other side of that paper, where we wrote words-that-weren’t-our-names, ten times each,

We drew pictures of our Halloween masks that we brought to school that day.

My mother kept that crayon-on-manila paper drawing framed in her living room.

In one corner, you can see where Mrs. Marks’, black marker example of how to write my name bled through.

And so, a lifelong journey began.

I would study education.

Teach first, second, and third graders, and homeschool.

Who’d have thought, 40 years ago?


I am Falling Back Into Blogging with the SITS Girls.

I’m doing it for Fall.



  1. My older cousin is exactly one year older than me. We lived next door to one another. I remember crying when he got to start school and I didn’t.

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