The Idea Bird. All of my ideas come from her. She is not for sale.
Six years old, with my own library card. My mother taught me to read before I started school, but I had to wait to be six before I could have a library card. This photo celebrates the occasion. Everyone was relieved, especially the librarian, who must have been tired of explaining the rules to me.
Mother kept me out of kindergarten, perhaps believing that non-readers would be a bad influence. But I, at five, wanted nothing more than to go to school, so I ran away. The school was three blocks north, and I packed a suitcase for the journey, including pencils, crayons, paper, a few favorite books (apparently I thought that the school might have run short), an orange, and a pair of clean socks. I had visited another school with my patient twelve-year-old cousin, so I knew all about sitting quietly and listening to the teacher. But when the school was in sight, I realized that I didn't know which room would be mine. Or how I would explain myself to a strange teacher. I returned home to wait the million years until first grade.
