Today is a bit cooler than yesterday but still as humid. The clouds will come and go. I have an empty dance card today. I could do some chores, like the kitchen floor, but my sloth side is screaming for attention. I’m thinking a cold drink, a good book and deck time.

In the life of every kid, there are special events, one time only events. The first one in my life was when I started school. All of a sudden, everything had changed. I didn’t know the word carefree back then, but if I had, I would have lamented its loss. Every weekday became a routine. I even had to wear the same outfit, my uniform, every day. I had a white blouse, a blue tie and a blue skirt with straps because the first grade girls had to wear skirts with straps. I have my first grade picture. My hair is long, my two front teeth look new and in dire need of braces. I do remember it didn’t take long for me to get used to my new world. I loved learning. I love reading.

In the second grade was my first communion. We shopped at Jordan Marsh in Malden for my dress. We all wore white including the boys in their white suits. Somewhere is a picture of me on that day. I had my hands together as if praying. I wasn’t. My strongest memory is not the first communion itself, but the Cinderella watch my aunt gave me.

The eighth grade was monumental. It was almost a free for all. I had Sister Hildegard who had no idea what was happening. I left school early, came back from lunch late and read books tucked inside my textbooks. It was the most fun I ever had in school. I also took entrance exams for high schools, chose one, got a new dress for graduation, and went to Nantasket for our class day. I wore a new blouse and new clam diggers. Graduation is almost an afterthought.

More firsts would come starting with the ninth grade and moving on and on until now. My memory drawers are overflowing, but I’ll stop here and save chapter two for another day.