1st grade, West Plains, MO...and so it begins.

The picture is blurry, a little like the memory, of my first day of 1st grade. I remember that my Mom wanted to take me to school, but I was adamant: "I'm a big girl. I want to ride the bus." Looking back, that must have broken my Mom's heart, and now I wish I had let her take me so she would have more than this blurry picture that she snapped of me, waiting for the big yellow bus, to to remember my first day of school. Hindsight.

But didn't I look quite the preppy little thing in my plaid, pleated skirt, the school-stripes cardigan, and the book bag as big as I was. In fact, the page in the book my Mom wrote things in about me as a kid said I weighed a whopping 28 pounds on my first day of school. Doesn't seem quite possible, but maybe my age had something to do with it.

See, there was no kindergarden. The year I started school, a child had to be six by December 31 to get to go to school. I made it by one day. December 30. So I was always the youngest in my class, wherever I went to school.

My first teacher had a very memorable name. Mrs. Kunkel. Annie Kunkel, to be precise. She seemed older than a Grandma to me. Well, actually, she was older than my Grandma. My only memory of Mrs. Kunkel, besides her name and her white-haired grandmotherliness, was one afternoon I just couldn't take it any more. I quite simply put my head on my desk and fell, unashamedly, asleep. When the kids all stood up and pushed their chairs back to start some kind marching and singing game, I remember opening my eyes just a second. When the kids tried to wake me, I heard Mrs. Kunkel tell them, "Shhhhh, let's just let her sleep. She's still little." Ah, I think I had just been insulted but I was too tired to care. Too big to let my Mommy bring me to school, but I still needed my afternoon nap!

Here's to you, Richards R-5. And good night, Mrs. Kunkel, wherever you are.

If you want to see all these cute little faces up close, click here.

School daze.

I was telling London awhile back about something very interesting from one of the 11 schools I attended during my 12-year K-12 (sans the "K") school career, and Harold said "You should write about that." Because neither of us could believe that, after having Googled it, I came up with nothing about it.

Yes, it was that unusual. And I saw by the look on London's face as I was telling her about it that it was indeed unique.

Well, you know how a little germ of an idea gets started and just grows from there...I decided that I would start from the 1st grade and journal my entire 12-year school career, as I remember it, then maybe someone else down the road who might Google that marvelous experience from my 6th-grade could actually find something written about it! Or one of my long-lost classmates I've been trying to find...finds me.