Once there was a little girl who liked to write…
In case there was ever any doubt, I present proof of my love of writing. Proof from a very early age. Proof I found at home in Momma’s buffet. The bottom drawer is crammed with lots of linens and random treasures.
Like these embroidered aprons. These teeny tiny things are no bigger than bibs. Maybe they are bibs but the pocket made me conclude apron.
Home on the Farm.
Being at home on the farm involves Nancy Drew sleuthing about a lot of things such as why every single fire alarm is chirping even with new batteries. And where exactly is the dead mouse that’s stinking up the front porch?
I’m guessing this paper I found in the buffet dates back to fourth grade because of the cursive handwriting and comma usage. The piece, written in number two pencil on looseleaf notebook paper, is undated.
People. Sign and date your masterpieces.
I remember The Little Leftover Witch well.
This was the title of a library book, and although the subject matter was Halloween, I checked it out of the Osceola Public Library during the summer and wrote this not for a school assignment but simply for fun. My sister and I spent lots of hot summer days sitting at the dining room table writing and drawing and coloring.
Since it was summer and not an official school assignment, no official book report guidelines were followed. I didn’t reference the author anywhere on the paper (oops). Technically, this may have been the first true review of a book I wrote.
The Little Leftover Witch by Florence Laughlin was published in 1960. Ms. Laughlin died in 2001 at the age of 91. Now I shall have to check this book out and re-read it.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Jennifer O’Connor, When I Grow Up