Well, now that you have read (at least, I hope you have) the “About Me” section, I thought I would do a series of posts to relate some of my memories from my past. They may entertain you a little, and I hope some of them will bring you a smile.
Peeking into my early life.
This is going to take some serious remembering.
So, where do I start? I grew up–until I was half-way between 7 and 8 years old–on Victoria Street in Brantford Ontario.This is where I got my start peeking into my past.
Peeking. Yes, it all started when I dropped one of my mother’s earrings. One of those screw-on earrings from sixty or more years ago. I didn’t just drop it anywhere. It went straight through a small hole in the floor of the upstairs bedroom.
That room always fascinated me. There was a small closet where my mother stored a pool table that belonged to my uncle. There were other things in what was really more of a cubbyhole than a closet. I don’t remember the specifics now, except for some part rolls of old wallpaper, but I loved it when my mother opened that door.
Well, the peeking, as I already said, started in this room. After I dropped that earring down the hole, I was drawn back time and time again to look into the blackness of that hole. Of course, you cannot possible see through a little knothole into the spaces between floors, but as a small child I didn’t reason that way. I wanted to find the earring.
I suppose I felt guilty. It’s not that it was an expensive piece of jewellery, or that my mother couldn’t get along without it. Actually she was allergic to metal and seldom wore jewellery of any kind other than her engagement and wedding rings and the occasional necklace if it didn’t have a metal hook.
So I peeked. And I peeked. Eventually we moved to another house, but the earring was not forgotten. For many years I kept the other half of the pair. In later years I put it on a chain and wore it as a necklace.
I had hoped to take a picture of it, but now it seems to have vanished and I have no recollection of disposing of it. So now the mate to the lost earring is lost also. I will always wonder about its fate. Maybe that’s a fitting end for that pair of amber teardrop earrings.
I hope you enjoyed my little story. I’m so glad you dropped by. I would really appreciate it if you would leave a comment in the box below. Thank you. Please come back again to see what’s new on my newest web site and blog.