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Remembering

  I did that old-person-thing today, where you see a picture of a child on the first day of fourth grade and think, “wasn’t she just a baby?”  And before Tevye could get to the chorus of Sunrise, Sunset , I also was in fourth grade.   Mr. Perryman walked around with a yardstick that he tapped on the corner of your desk.  He was too tall to bend down.  That was the year I learned that for the rest of my life, I would be the one doing the serious part of group work while the others did the fun part, thanks to his assignment of Spindletop.   And I am pretty sure we did a puppet show about a séance.  In fourth grade.  My sticker book got stolen, and I still remember To This Day Who Did It.  But, I also shared in the sinning by reading the back of a book, dressing up in my lavender party frock, and putting on a show.  I mean, “book report”.  I got an A+, of course.  I failed spelling, also of course.  I fell in love with Brazil in geography and promised myself I would go when I turned 50. I

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