Today is another lovely fall day. The sun is shining, but clouds are predicted for later. It is 61°. The breeze is every now and then and is strong enough to blow the leaves at the ends of the branches. The dogs romped this morning.

I remember so much, and if I close my eyes, I can see pieces of my childhood. My third grade classroom is intact in my memories. We were in the cellar of the rectory with the walls and the floor painted and tables and chairs about the room. A clock was the only wall ornament. I remember my seat was at the last table in a chair not against the wall. My nun’s desk was across from the door and facing all of us. We kept our books in the center of the table while lunches and book bags went under the chairs. We used to line up in the middle of the room to go outside. We had to walk beside the cars in the garage. It was a strange place for a classroom, but we never minded. It was as if we were in our own school.

I remember the eighth grade. My room was on the second floor. My seat was by a window overlooking the school yard. A bookcase lined the wall under the windows. I used to hide candy in the bookcase beside my seat. I’d covertly eat it during the day. Later, I got more brazen and kept my transistor radio in the bookcase. I’d listen through ear buds and hide the buds with my hands. One day as I was listening and eating, I got called on. I pulled the candy out of my mouth but wasn’t fast enough to take out the air buds. Sister Hildegard thought I was hard of hearing and raised her voice. I almost laughed out loud. Later, she changed all our seats, and I was in the front desk of the second row. She never remembered my hearing problem, and I couldn’t hide my candy or music anymore.

I can still see the classroom block and my classroom at Women’s Training College in Bolgatanga where I taught. The windows had no glass. They did have shutters. We sometimes had to close them when the rains were heavy. The door was an opening. Once in a while a goat would make its way inside the room. We’d just keep going. The goat always left. There were small wooden tables and chairs. Each table held two students. The chalk board was at the front of the room. Some of it had cracks. I wrote around them. My desk was in front of the board. In my memory drawer is the most vivid picture of that classroom. It will always be with me.

Today is ugly. The morning is dark. A strong wind is whipping everything back and forth, even the big limbs still covered in leaves are being tossed. I can hear that wind. Rain is predicted.

I remember Dick and Jane and their little sister Sally and who could forget Spot and Puff. I was in the first grade. They were in my first reader, Fun with Dick and Jane. Jane wore dresses all the time, frilly dresses. She had blonde hair sometimes tied with red ribbons. They never did anything once, “Run, run, Dick, run,” said Sally. “Look, Jane, look, look, see Dick.” Even the pets talked in doubles. Sometimes we’d read the books out loud as a class. We sounded sing-songy. Other times the nun would call one of us to read. I remember using my finger under the words so I could kept track. The books got boring quickly. We could read run runs and looks and sees only a few times. It was then we’d move on to another book with Dick and Jane. Each book had new words to learn, bigger words. I don’t remember when we were done with Dick and Jane, but I do remember different readers, bigger books with individual stories and questions at the end of each. The stories were actually interesting, and the questions were easy. They were in the same order as the story. They were usually homework.

The other lesson I remember is learning how to use the dictionary. That words were in the same order as the alphabet was the first thing we learned. I remember the guide words at the top of each page. That was the big lesson. We had work sheets with words, and we had to find the guide words for each of them. The test we had was the same. I loved my dictionaries. I used to open a page at random and look for new words. I kept a paperback dictionary near my bed so I could look up words I didn’t know when I was reading before going to sleep. I still have my red covered Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary. The pages have begun to yellow.

In Ghana, I used to teach my students fun sounding words. Their favorite was bamboozle. I remember a history teacher asking me if I had taught them that word because it appeared in several essays. It seems the British bamboozled the Ashanti.

My dance card this week has my regular uke events, my practice and lesson, and also two concerts. I have a doctor’s appointment today, just a regular check-up. During the rest of the week I might vacuum and dust though I’m hesitant as I don’t want to risk my inner sloth.