My affair with writing began decades ago with a vinyl Girl Scout diary I received for Christmas. That January 1, I embarked on a lifetime of navel-gazing that would rival any lint-picking narcissist.
“Dear Diary,” I wrote, in red pen. “We have 6 inches of snow. In some places it is up to my knees. It’s the worst snowstorm they’ve had in Md: for 5 years!!!
“Tami had a great time with us this morning. We played a few games and had pancakes for breakfast. See you tomorrow.
“P.S. We had a buffet supper tonight!”
Have I always been that enthusiastic about food? Who the heck was Tami? Were my knees really only six inches from the ground? I do not know.
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February 1, 2008 at 6:11 am
Henry Barman
Questions deserve answers. No, you sometimes refused to eat. Tami who? Yes, your knees were pretty close to the ground. And you can add, in the same storn our car got hung up on a snowbank with it’s front tires hanging in the air over the street on the plowed side.