At my age, it was time that I would learn how to read. Mum got these English schoolbooks for me to practice learning letters. We called them printing books, because technically that it not cursive writing. Or the books called themselves that. One of things that I particularly remember about this book is that is taught letters related to a c, calling it the magic c or something with a little bunny rabbit in a hat in the top left corner. Letter that started with a c. I think they were c, e, o, a, d, q and g. Or something like that. It helped me remember.

Mum and Dad, one found a very clever way to teach me to read and write. They bought me an exercise book, and we headed off to the zoo, writing down the animal’s names as we went. Comparing ostriches and emus. By the way, they have different numbers of toes. Mum also made this little booklet which I still have. Mum and Dad are very good at finding ways so I learn secretly.

They also got a small notebook which had a cartoon zebra on it. I think the background was hot pink. I learnt how to spell some words.

It was either Christmas or my birthday, and it was the time I got my first clay wheel. I love making pottery these days, but back then I was annoyed with how much of a mess it made. After that it sat quietly in the top of the closet in the spare room for the next few years. Things seemed to have changed so much for me now, because now I love pottery and I don’t at all mind the mess. I wish that I hadn’t cared about the mess because then when we moved we might have been able to get another one. If I had been so invested into it.

The day that when I got my beloved baby doll. Its name was Joseph. Joseph became a quick favourite, and I pampered the doll in blue clothes, carried him everywhere. I think he even surpassed my love for my toy Masha- don’t tell her that 😊, (the ballerina teddy that I got when I was little and had chicken pox).

Everywhere includes playgrounds. One time I we went to the playground which was closer to the stationary store. My old kindergarten sometimes visited there. They wouldn’t let me sit in the sand pit, so I was limited to the edge of the box and awkwardly leaning over to reach the sand. Now I could enjoy the liberty of playing it the sandpit without worrying about old ladies telling me off, and just play. Baby Joseph came along to. He sat there watching as I played.

Then it was time to go. So, we went home, only to discover that baby Joseph was nowhere to be found. We trekked back to the playground, wove out way around every corner of the playground. Searched the sand pit. Possible dug up the sandpit. Checked the playground twice. But baby Joseph was gone.

From then on, I tried to leave my toys at home. I think this came from that experience. I didn’t want to lose them like I lost baby Joseph. I would wonder if I could have found him if I had looked a little harder. I missed baby Joseph might have noticed that I don’t have any picture of him. Because I don’t have him now. But this toy was very special then. I don’t miss it now, but it has still taught me to be careful not to carry around stuff I will probably lose. Like a bag I don’t need to a large gathering. Or a wallet to school. I’m still glad he was my doll at some point because missing something isn’t necessarily bad. It’s evidence that something was worth it.

Oh, and that is me collecting rocks from earlier.

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