Just about everyone who guessed on my grade 3 picture in the previous post (small version to the left) got it right: last row, second from the right. I have never particularly thought that there was a resemblance between Nikki Dee and me, but that’s how you seemed to guess. I was surprised about how diminutive I was standing amongst the giants in the back row although I imagine that I grew to be taller than most in the picture. Funny that. I guess it’s partly down to being born later in the year than earlier. At that age it can make a difference. I know that my friend, Brian (top row second from left), had nine months on me, and I did eventually catch up and pass him … after years of something resembling bullying.
Did you know that studies of professional athletes reveal that a high percentage of them were born early in the year? The theory is that because they’re bigger and stronger earlier, they get picked for higher level teams and get better coaching and more training. So, even when the rest of us catch up in terms of physical development, we’re still way behind in terms of opportunity and skill development .
My best friend of these early years, Nelson, is the first left in the second row. He lives in Edmonton, poor guy, and we haven’t seen each other for 11 years now. Prior to that, it was more than three decades between cups of coffee.
I still communicate with Nelson’s sister, Doris. She’s a good photographer, poet, humanitarian and blogger. She still works for a living, so she doesn’t post an awful lot, but you can catch her at Thoughts and Things.
The butter has been hard the past few mornings — somewhat prematurely according to the calendar, I hasten to add. This is a great hardship to me.
There is a gardening project that I have been intending to do all spring and summer. I haven’t done it yet. Do you think I will?
September comes, Nikki Dee heads off to school, and we all get our first round of colds and/or sore throats. Sigh.
The trees are beginning to turn rapidly now. A month from now, it will be looking bleak. But don’t worry, it will only stay that way for about six months.
I have two cavities after not having had any for about two decades. Do you think this means that I should go to the dentist more often than once every two years?
As I limp into autumn, I reflect that I have been waiting for six months for physio. Physio is not normally covered by our health care system, but I am trying to sneak in as some hospitals will accept referrals. Apparently, they’re not zackly in a hurry, however.
Blogging ain’t what it used to be as more and more folk spend less and less time on the blogs. Maybe blogging will heat up as the temperatures cool down.
Speaking of blogs, blogging and bloggers, how irritating is it when someone visits you enough so that you feel that you are developing a sufficient relationship to put him/her on your list, but it seems that the moment you do and start visiting them regularly, they have achieved their goal, and they stop bothering to visit you? (Hmmm … that was a freight train sentence, AC, even though it was grammatically correct.)
When I was explicitly looking for my grade 3 photo, I also came across my grade 2 class picture. I look impish in it, and indeed I was a bit of an imp that year for some reason. Judging from my hair and dress, I was unprepared for picture day. I guess Miss Silverman was not fond enough of me to help me with my hair, nevermind bussing (or even trucking :)) my cheek.
Grade two was an odd year for me. We moved, so I had two teachers in three schools. (I just remembered the first teacher’s name — Miss or Mrs Fathergill (I think). (I was trying my darndest to recall it last night, but it wasn’t there. Suddenly, it just popped in, so I thought I’d better write it down before it disappeared again.) We were very early in the baby boom, so in our new more suburban location, two schools — Westbrook and Parkdale — were forced to share Parkdale’s building while Westbrook was being built. We were the afternoon school. Come spring, one day Westbrook marched en masse to the new building where we were then brutally forced to attend all day.
Actually, the same thing happened when I started high school. My school, Malcolm Campbell, hadn’t been completed, so I began high school in a new elementary school. I don’t think we were there too long, however.
Thus endeth my mental meanderings.