Saturday 31 March 2012

My first. . .

One of my first books, as you can see my spelling has not improved!




One of my first attempts at writing. I know, it's very embarrassing, the spelling again and how I kept joining up all my words as though I just had to get them all out in one go. As for the end, well that is just so weired but perhaps I was thinking about being a writer!






One of my first paintings. This is Dick Turpin with Black Bess, who the heck is holding those reins?







My first little writing desk. I walked into the room one Christmas morning and my Mom had bought this for me. She had sat a beautiful fluffy panda toy up to it which was also a present. I feel a little guilty that I booted the Panda from his position and immediately fell in love with my little desk. Now after such a long time it is back with me and I may even write on it again - I never grew much taller since then so this will not be too difficult!










My first diary. This is very interesting reading. I read the whole thing again the other day and at this point of time I must have been obsessed with Horses, Skateboarding, a game called Scarper and managed to come second in the 200 metres race on sports day. I recorded it all.






All these first things in my life were and still are are very important. It's odd, as when I was a child I never thought that I wanted to be a writer. I know some people know from an early age exactly what they want to be and strive to do just that. I was obsessed with horses and mermaids, dinosaurs and the great outdoors and every day whatever I was doing, I would write about it. I even recorded when I got my ears pierced and if I fell out with my best friend (who I am very glad to say is still my best friend). I didn't even think about it, I just did it. I wrote in my diary every day. I kept things in my little desk and I imagined different worlds that I could escape to.






The diary was a very small pocket one. It only had a few spaces for an entry every day which I filled and now over 30 years later, I have a real glimpse back to the past of things I may have forgotten, if had not written them down.






Just a thought, but it's never too late to start a little diary, you don't have to write loads but in years to come, when you read them back or pass them on to someone else, it's a very special way to share a moment of time that will last forever because it happened to you and you wrote it down.





































4 comments:

  1. So very envious, I too had a desk at about the same age, your post echoes so many of my memories. I even went to York to see the cell where Dick Turpin was imprisoned. How sad that a rolling stone gathers no moss... wonder where all my childhood treasures went when I travelled to Africa. Do hope you will have a look at the flash-fiction competition I'm running. There's a choice of book prize for anyone who already has the one I'm offering. :0)

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    1. It is special to have a little space isn't it Carole? I loved opening my desk to get my pens and paper out and scribble away in another world. I will check out the flash-fiction, sounds interesting. xx

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  2. Nothing's changed then, Di!You're still obssessed with horses and mermaids - just added chickens to your list! What a super desk. I never had one of those. But I was also into writing and reading all those years ago. In 1978 I was 7!

    Lovely memories, Di.

    I don't have any of my childhood things either, Carole Ann - heaven knows where they went!

    Julie xx

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    1. I am sorry Julie, but at least your memory still holds all your magical memories as you and your wonderful workshops have shown. I do love my little bits and pieces from my past and enjoyed seeing them all again. I am just lucky that Mom kept them all. xx

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