Sunday, October 23, 2005

Nostalgia

So...

I have a box in my closet of childhood stuff my mother made me take sometime ago (last winter, in fact). I am not sure I had gone through it since I brought it home.

I recalled the box o' stuff when I was home at Thanksgiving, and I wanted to get out my pointe shoes to show my neice. She is taking ballet, and has yet to show me anything she has learnt. I was hoping that by showing her my ballet shoes, she would open up. Nevertheless, I couldn't find my pointe shoes in my closet, and said to my mom, 'they must be home in Saskatoon.' Sure enough, there they were, in the box, as I had thought.

I got them out tonight, and tried them on. I did that?! Ouch! I am almost certain my feet have not grown, as I have been wearing the same size since I was 12, which is around the time I started pointe. But boy, did it hurt, with my toes all scrunched up - I guess it must have always been like that. Ah well, it was fun to get them out, try them on, and do up my ribbons. It brought back fond memories of dance.

I only wish I could have taken pointe for longer than the 2 months I did. It was the fall of '89 (I think) when we were to start pointe in ballet class (and curling at school for that matter). We hadn't had more than 4 or 5 classes and I went and twisted my ankle. It sucked. That was it for pointe for me. I had been looking forward to the day I would get to do pointe in ballet class and this happened. Not only did I twist my ankle once, but twice and thrice. I slipped on the ice during my first curling game, and that was it for curling as well.

I never returned to either of those activities again.

The box 'o stuff also had my childhood sticker book. As the inside cover states:

This sticker collection is the Property of
My name MarciaDianne Minto
My address box 15*9
Biggar, Sask
My phone number 948-5**6

I started this collection on Dec. 25th 1983
I have 70 300 stickers
My favorite sticker is a prettie
My prettiest sticke is a Butterfly rainbow

I had a good time looking through all the stickers I had collected. I was always (and still am) especially fond of all the smelly stickers I have. I got a kick outta the gooli-eyed ones. I am not sure Jeff was overly enthused by my excitment of my lost and forgotten sticker book; I had fun remembering.

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