A few weeks ago I pulled a box down from the storage area of our garage. I was looking for old family pictures. I found my diary from my when I was a little girl. It spanned several years. Buster and the girls had many laughs thanks to my diary entries.
This particular entry was pretty funny from 1977. I’m sharing it with you all…don’t laugh cause I don’t know if I’m mature enough to handle it.
If you can’t read my handwriting it reads…
Dear Kitty ‘77' (yes, my diary had a name actually two: Kitty and Sarah)
today I’m in the 7th grade. I’m mature now and I got a locker today.
I met some deaf girls I don’t know there names. They can’t here nothing but silence. I don’t know sign language but I’ll try to learn some
I am almost through with my Laura Ingalls Books. I wish I had more I love them.
Who knew getting a locker and being in 7th grade made one mature. Apparently, it did in my little pea brain back then. After going back and reading some of the entries, I was also very boy crazy. I will spare you those details. I think I should have quit chasing boys and worked on my grammar and spelling.
The school I attended started a deaf school around this time. I think it was my first time being around deaf kids - thus my insight into their world. Astounding huh.
In other news,,,, speaking of maturity…which I still wonder if I will ever achieve some times, Buster and I celebrated twenty-two years of marriage this weekend. We had a nice dinner out. Leah sat on the coffee table and took this picture of us before we left for dinner.
So….at what point in life did you start feeling mature or are you still waiting on that moment?