Hmmmmmmm. That’s my first response to the Daily Prompt today. ‘Early Years’: ‘Write page three of your autobiography.’ Well you see that depends on what happened on page one and two really doesn’t it? I’m also going to have to go and research how many words are on a page. Well ‘Industry Standard’ is 250 words per page. That’s a fairly short little piece, though I’ll no doubt run out o things to say. Here we go.
My first real memories, I think, are of nursery school. I know I went to two different nursery schools, and whilst I have little memory of the first, there is more there of the second. I think my only memories of the first place are of the tall, old house, stricken with ivy. Before the house was a large yard with an old swing gate. Where the toys were kept, I do not know, but in my memory the yard is festooned with toys. I was only ever interested in one, though. The red tractor! The was a red play tractor there, the sort designed for little children to race around on, but the pedals never really work properly. It was my favourite toy in the world, and every day I think I would look forward to being let out in the yard to race around on my little red tractor. In fact, my first word was ‘trac-TOR!’, the emphasis being on the second syllable. There’s even a picture of me at home, gleeful on my own vehicle. The other thing I remember about the first nursery was the Scottish accent. One of the workers there was a strong Scott – I am told now his name was Brinn. Being around him at such a young age, my first words actually had a very Scottish accent to them. There were no balloons on my birthday, there were ‘nanoons!’ (in a very high pitched voice). Of course, I no
And that is 250 words! The end of that sentence would be ‘longer have the Scottish accent, but a healthy country Somerset one.’ if you were interested. In fact, it wasn’t difficult at all to reach 250 words, and I do feel I could go on for a while longer, but no matter. Hey, I’ll just have to write myself an autobiography one day! Nobody would read it but the grand-kids, but who cares, really?
PS: When I can, I’ll put on a photo of the red tractor!