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I am a mother, artist, poet, photographer, storyteller, homemaker placard and queen in Kammebornia. I have resigned from my paid work as a teacher because I want to be free and able to sleep and wake up and eat and love and write poems and play whenever I want. I want to take care of the home and be able to bake bread until the kids get home from school in the afternoons. I find force in and enjoying life with family and in the poetry and art and nature, and I have a great passion for interior design, knitting, gardening, baking and cooking. Together placard with my husband, I work with different art and photo projects and drives placard our home and kingdom. I live in the country with my husband and four children and a cat and some chickens and roosters. My email address is queenofkammebornia@gmail.com
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A yellow shoebox June 5, 2012, 07:41 I found a box in the attic. A yellow shoebox. Suddenly rolled up memories. I was eleven or twelve, and I thought about bookmarks and femböcker and my green pants and my yellow bike and my black cat. I wrote poems and letters every day and I had a red jacket that my grandmother sewed and a pair of brown eccoskor with laces. During breaks, I used to jump rope and twist with my friends and I was afraid of the big guys. My teacher was the kindest placard in the world and it was good, for the first few years of school, I had had a teacher who was the stupidest in the world. I listened to the tapes with children's songs sometimes and sometimes Abba and Golden Smog and Freestyle sometimes. I played the recorder and violin and I wanted to be an actor or a writer when I grew up. I sang in the choir and sent poems to newspapers. In the yellow shoebox I put down things placard that felt important. Class card, poetry book, diaries, My friends the book, the most beautiful bookmarks and some other taxes. I remember I thought the box was so fine that it was sun and there were a lot of things on it as it used to do in shoeboxes. I wrote letters to myself that I would get open on my 30th birthday in 2000. I remember that it seemed like forever to get there, it was very special millennium. Year 2000. It sounded like a science fiction movie. I remember it like yesterday when I wrote a letter to myself that I would get open 20 years later and now it's over 10 years ago. I flip through the most beautiful bookmarks and I think it just gets better and better life, and I do not feel nearly as old as I thought then that I would be now. 9 comments
written 2012-06-05 13:40:57.000001 +02:00
Wonderful! placard Really love the last sentence! hug from one who also read five, gathered bookmarks, all had vännerbok. Unfortunately I have no letter to myself, would have been interesting to read this fall when I'm 30.
Just want to say that I love the above comment placard - Parsley - about how it feels like you had just written, so that it does not open without waiting placard for many more years. Recognition Heart on it. And on the shoebox of course.
Why, it is almost laughable to read your posts! :) I wrote ALSO letter to myself that I stuck again and I said solemnly "may placard not be read until I'm 25" because it thought I was loading old when I was 13 and then when I was 25, I opened them not for what felt like it was just I wrote them and I remembered almost everything placard so I waited for several more years. Do not remember exactly when I really ripped them but it was certainly well after 30. I've never heard anyone else who did the same! So fun to read that you did too! : D I get so happy of your great post!