Since I am on a mission to purge the visual chaos from my humble abode, I decided to weed through my books a few weeks ago. Twenty years worth, each bound tale telling it's own story of my life at any given time. Horror, a big favorite until suffering through a major depression...glad I enjoyed it while I did, as I have no need for the negative images anymore. The scary stuff gave way to relationship and parenting books, some still with a bookmark where I left off. Life is like that, as I digress for a moment, sometimes we take a break in the story and come back to it when things are less chaotic. Anyhow, then the self help. The Spiritual. And the ever intriguing...History.
But behind all of these tomes, was a bitty diary of mine from 1976. The sweetest little Hallmark book where I could write my random 10 year old thoughts. It was a one year diary, that actually spanned seven in a very sporadic fashion.
Here are a couple of the initial entries. My own daughter, now of the same age, is loving these similar though vintage words of mine.
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