Launching Memoir Mondays (rather obtusely on a Thursday)

From as early as the first time my scribbles made sense I have written.

Actually, even before my scribbles made sense I have written. I distinctly remember preparing myself for Year One by etching pages of inching inky worms to which I rather hopefully asked my Mother…

“So, is that writing? Can I write?”

Since this time I have transcribed the fluttering thoughts of my youth, adolescence and adulthood in endless streams of consciousness.

At first these thoughts were child-like stories. They soon morphed into introspective journals and now they come home to roost as commentaries on the world we live in.

I have boxes filled with these words.

Cluttered steamy collections of crinkled paper and torn notebooks, bone-dry from the sunshine of youth and time they heap like papyrus tors of past.

I have kept letters, diaries, stories, scribbled napkins and puckered pages gently scented with the girly perfume of my childhood, the torrid tears of teenage angst and the blood red stains of wine-filled reflections.

Memoir Mondays is an endeavour to open Pandora’s Box. Well to open a rectangular raffia box to be exact, but you get the point.

Reflect with me, open the words of your own childhood.

Together, let’s transport to memories of our past loves, lives and literary heritage.

Look out for my first Memoir post this Monday.

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