spanking in the garbage

When Crystal and I were younger,
we would love to go out to the big garbage trailer,
and look for things we could use in our playhouse.
We usually found old magazines,
newspapers,
junk mail.
It was our favourite thing to do...
looking for treasures in that garbage.
One day though,
Auntie Madge specifically told us not to go into the garbage and...
we did.
Shortly after,
we were being called into the house to get a spanking.
We put our hands atop the counter,
braced ourselves,
and awaited the sharp pain to shoot through our bottoms.
There was a spanking in the garbage that day.

cheese on a bun

Whenever I was over at my auntie Madge's,
we had the best snack in the world.
Cheese on a Bun.
I remember my cousin's cutting up slices of marble cheese,
taking out a bag of buns,
and seasoning salt.
We would put the cheese on the bun,
and put it in the microwave.
After it was melted,
we added the seasoning salt.
Ta-da!
The best snack in the world.

left at four

I was over at Chelsea's place.
We played Barbies.
Watched Sailor Moon.
Made cookies.
After our play-date,
uncle Ralph dropped me off at home.
Our white station wagon in the driveway,
he assumed everyone was home.
They weren't.
I was left alone, locked out of my house.
I decided to walk to Laurie's (across town)...
she wasn't there either.
I went back home,
crouched behind the white station wagon in our driveway,
and cried.

a muddy memory

It was Daniel, Darren and I.
We were an inseperable three at the time.
(Okay, so they were the inseperable, I was the tag-along...)
We were out in the sand box at our old place on center street, innocently playing,
like we did on a regular basis.
I don't remember the procedure of the process...
who dragged the hose over to the sand box, whose idea it was in the first place,
but I do remember the three of us shaping and forming perfect mud balls in our little hands,
and throwing them with all our might towards the white shed of our neighbour's only feet away from the edge of our backyard.
And then I remember the spankings we got, and how we had to clean up after ourselves once our neighbour came and told our parents.
So much for a wonderful day in the neighbourhood.

my red carpet moment

We were watching a movie...
I don't remember which one.
It was later in the evening...
I wasn't much older than three.
(If I remember correctly)
I always thought the carpet was red...
but I'd have to clarify that.
(It may have been green)
And I remember as he staggered into the house,
yelling, angry.
And then he got sick.
He threw up...
right there on the living room floor.
This was my red carpet moment.
(or was it green?)
Thanks for the memories.

a tragedy in itself

I don't remember my birth.
How sad.
Tragic really.
Coming into the world, and yet...
not even realizing it.
*sigh*
I don't recall any feelings I felt as I left the safety of my mother's womb, nor do I remember the feeling of inhaling that first fresh breath of air.
I don't remember the way that my father held me, or the way that I clung desperately to my mother's breast, searching for the warmth of her breastmilk in my tiny mouth.
I don't even remember how my brother cradled me in his arms for the first time.

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Though this very well may not be the easiest way to record and keep track of the events thus far in my life, I figured it was due time that I took more time to do so.

The memories scrawled, or should I say typed on this blog are memories that have been embedded into my mind, even now, and although may seem insignificant, are very important pieces in a puzzle that has yet to be completed.

All memories are told from the view point of myself, unless stated otherwise, and are therefore the sole judgements of myself as well.

May the memories continue.