For me. For Lee. For Mom. For anyone else who is interested.
I'm moving to a new blog: The Dixon Diary.
I promise to write more. I really do. Mostly for me. For my family. For my 80-year old self who will some day sift through a lifetime of memories.
It will be more of the same. Laila is almost three, and I expect the next few years to be full of funny turns of phrases and mispronunciations from her. Connor is six and the world is opening up to him, and it's amazing to see. This will be our memories, our highlights, our ordinary moments.
I can't wait to see what it will bring!
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Monday, November 14, 2011
Fall Snapshots
It's a picture perfect fall day.
The sky is clear, the sun is bright, and it's a crisp 70 degrees.
I'm in the second grade. I'm a new student at Johnsonville Elementary, but I make friends easily. My class picks me to be the class princess for the upcoming Halloween Carnival.
After school I sit outside with my brother and my new friends, waiting for Mom to finish work. She works at the middle school next door.
We discuss Halloween costumes. “I’m going to be a skunk,” I announce. “But not the stinky kind,” I explain, and for the first time I wonder why I chose a skunk costume.
When Mom finishes work, we get in the car for the 45 minute drive to our new home in Myrtle Beach. It’s a long drive, but I endure it patiently because I know it’s temporary. When mom finds a new job closer to our new home, we will attend Socastee Elementary School. I'm excited about this. Myrtle Beach seems like such a big city, and I wonder what my new friends will be like.
On the way home we stop at the Farmer’s Market to pick out a perfect pumpkin. Mom lets me pick a small one for my room. We take a look at the seasonal produce—apples, squashes, cider, and maize corn for decoration.
When we finally arrive home I rush to my new room. It's pink—not the hot, bright pink I had hoped for, but a softer pastel pink that mom and I agreed on. But it's pink, and I love it. I also have a huge bed that used to belong to my grandmother. Mom painted it white.
Halloween comes quickly. We don’t go home after school because the Halloween Carnival is at the middle school. After several hours of waiting I don my plastic skunk costume and we head to the gym.
There are carnival booths everywhere. The girl’s locker room has been transformed into Dr. Quack’s Office, but I don’t go in there because spaghetti-brains and grape-eyeballs give me the creeps.
I am more interested in the boy’s locker room, which has been transformed into a haunted house. I have already bragged to my friends that I will be going in the haunted house this year. “But there’s a man with a chainsaw!” they warn.
“I don’t care. I won’t be scared.”
I stand in line for what feels like an eternity. Finally it's my turn. I hand the attendant my ticket and start to enter. But it's so dark. Suddenly a chainsaw roars, and I change my mind about the haunted house. Thankfully Mom understands.
Soon it is time to announce the King and Queen of the Halloween Carnival. I take my place on stage with the other princes and princesses. The boy’s locker room is under the stage, and I hear the chainsaw, followed by brief screams.
I don’t win. I watch my mom snap a picture of the new King and Queen on stage, and my heart breaks in two. I run off the stage crying. My mom thinks I'm upset because I don’t win, but I don’t really care about that.
We leave with bellies full of candied apples, cotton candy, and candied corn.
Shortly after Halloween the leaves turn bright colors and begin dropping from the trees. My mom finds a new job in Myrtle Beach and I know my days at Johnsonville Elementary are coming to an end.
We go to my new school in mid-December to register. It is cold and white and it feels very small.
We spend Christmas break in our new home, and my mom stays home with us and teaches me to cross-stitch. I count down the days until I begin my new school.
On our first day, Mom sends me to school with lunch money for me and my younger brother. At our old school the lunch ladies knew us, and they would serve my brother lunch before I paid them. But it’s different at our new school. No one tells me to take the money to the cafeteria first thing in the morning. I guard it in my pocket all morning.
At lunch, on our way to the cafeteria, my brother’s teacher spots our class and pulls me out of line. “Why didn’t you pay for your brother’s lunch?” she scolds. Her tone tells me she is angry at me for something, but I’m not sure what I've done wrong. My new teacher steps in to defend me. “That’s enough,” she tells the other teacher.
After lunch we head back to our portable-classroom. It's cold and I leave my jacket on. The girl in front of me turns around and whispers my name. I look up and smile, and she kicks me with a pink cowboy boot.
My accent is thick and country and I don’t make friends easily. I huddle down in my seat, unnoticed, and shiver through the cold winter.
In the spring we get a new seating assignment. My teacher assigns me a seat next to a very shy, quiet girl, and we soon become best friends.
So much has changed. I think back on the past year, and on the perfect fall I had. And on the cold and dreary winter that followed it.
The days are getting longer now, the weather is warming up, and I think that perhaps there may be better days ahead.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
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