2468 Memory Lane, Childhood, the Eighties

(Still in England; wrote this post the other day. Am clever like that.)

My dad scanned some great images for me, pictures I maybe hadn't ever seen, or not for a long time.

The first one is of me with two beloved items that are, I believe, still in a box somewhere in my parents' basement. When I was very small, my mom made that activity book I am carefully "reading" for the millionth time. As a matter of fact, most of my childhood pictures consist of me curled up in some chair or another, engrossed in some book or another. Next to me is perched the Christmas present that made my little head nearly explode with joy, a real Cabbage Patch Doll named Christy Nicolina. My great-grandma told me it was an ugly doll (it was, of course, not that I could conceive of such sacrilege at the time), which made me cry. Sadly, it's one of the few memories I have of my grandfather's mother.


The second photo shows the "stacked like a cord of wood" configuration I mentioned the other day. How we drove to Iowa, all laid out in the back. Nowadays, of course, totally illegal, but I have good memories of falling asleep, curled among my siblings, listening to the steady thrum of the highway.