Tuesday, February 28, 2012

2-28-12 Post 800 about being a kid, and Winnie the Pooh, and bananas, and memory

So for the 800th post, get ready, because I'm seriously wandering today.

Start with this morning: eating bananas and cereal out of my new spring-themed bowl with Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore on it, and thinking, I think there's a picture of me eating bananas out of a bowl when I was little, but it wasn't Pooh on the sides ... what was it?

So I go a-hunting for it to jog my memory. And I don't find the bowl and bananas together. I've managed to mash up both into a single picture in my memory from these:

Bananas and armpits, a winning combination. I'd also forgotten about that tablecloth until I saw the picture. All those little floating brown mushrooms used to be so fascinating to me. I still eat off of those plates.

But, bingo. Mystery solved on what was on the bowl I was eating something out of. Looks like gravy and lima beans on the plate. Bleck. I thought it was good enough to need two spoons back then, though.

Anyway, I seem to remember having a Winnie the Pooh something in the way of bowls or cups when I was little, but perhaps I'm mashing more things together again. I remember quite vividly standing in the Sears in Pasadena, eating non-pariel chocolates out of a white paper bag that we'd bought at the candy counter they had there, right in the center of the first floor, and staring at Winnie the Pooh toys and wishing I could take them all home with me. 

Anyway, in the process of looking for these pictures, I ran across other pictures that I'd forgotten about or overlooked that caught my eye today, which have absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with bananas or Winnie the Pooh.

Exhibit A: There is a FISH tank. When did we ever have fish? Why have I completely erased this from my memory but I can remember trying on those shoes at Foleys?

Exhibit B: Mom was painting when I was little, big scenic canvases. I remember going with her to a house where I think she was taking lessons or organizing something to be in an upcoming art show. I remember walking through that strange house and staring out the windows. The back door to the house opened on a high staircase that I thought about jumping off of. I remember the easel she set up for me to paint on at our house.  But I must have wanted to be more avant-garde on this day, painting Jackson Pollock style during a black phase. I still try to sit on my knees like this, although they remind me very quickly that I am not four years old anymore.

Exhibit C: When I look at this next picture of me in my room, odd things occur to me. Still sitting with my knee bent under me, there appear to be a couple of dinosaurs who were playing with the little people at their house, which may have involved dinosaur stew with the saucepans and plastic bowls (which used to contain butter) nearby. There is both a jack-o-lantern AND a Santa figure in the back on the table, which means it's probably February in my room. There is also what appears to be bubble wrap behind me, classified ads from the newspaper on the writing desk, and a doll with frightful hair that I am making worse by the minute. I may be covering her face so she can't see how bad it's gotten. 

Exhibit D: Know what this face is saying? It's silently screaming: I.Hate.Dressing.Up. Gah, the scratchy tights and the Mary Janes that I could never not get black scuff marks on, the ones that pinched my toes and made annoying clacking sounds everywhere I walked. The frilly dresses you could never play in without being "unladylike," and the  puffy sleeves, and the peter pan collars and the lace. GAH!

And finally, Exhibit E: I am not sure where this was taken, although it looks like the water out at Bay Area park. I am in my natural clothing habitat, however: t-shirt, jeans, and Nikes. It is 1982 and I am 12 -- all gangly and awkward, the clumsy tomboy who would much rather play in the mud than deal with makeup. 

I look at this girl and smile. She rocked, even though she didn't know it. 


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