theoldwolf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theoldwolf) wrote2009-02-12 09:05 pm
theoldwolf) wrote2009-02-12 09:05 pm
Entry tags:
Writer's Block: Down on Memory Lane
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Time: About 1953.
Standing in a dark kitchen, turning the burners of our old gas stove off and on, watching the pretty blue flames come and go. Without warning, the oven exploded in my face: I had turned on that "middle" knob, without knowing that the oven had no pilot light and had to be lit with a match. (Remember, I'm about two at the time.) The oven had filled up with gas, and as soon as the next burner went on, woof!. The oven door banged me in the forehead, but shielded my face and body from the flames. My hair was singed and I had a nasty contusion where the door hit me, but there was no other damage.
My mother told me later that for months, any time I heard a loud explosion (common in New York, as they had to blast bedrock to dig foundation cellars), I'd get this faraway look in my eyes and ask "Boom?"
Time: About 1953.
Standing in a dark kitchen, turning the burners of our old gas stove off and on, watching the pretty blue flames come and go. Without warning, the oven exploded in my face: I had turned on that "middle" knob, without knowing that the oven had no pilot light and had to be lit with a match. (Remember, I'm about two at the time.) The oven had filled up with gas, and as soon as the next burner went on, woof!. The oven door banged me in the forehead, but shielded my face and body from the flames. My hair was singed and I had a nasty contusion where the door hit me, but there was no other damage.
My mother told me later that for months, any time I heard a loud explosion (common in New York, as they had to blast bedrock to dig foundation cellars), I'd get this faraway look in my eyes and ask "Boom?"
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http://www.gunnerkrigg.com/archive_page.php?comicID=349
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One is when my nursery school introduced us to ponies for a change. I went through my routine circuit on the playground equipment once, but Mrs. McGretty (I never learned the spelling of her name) told me that I couldn't that day because the ponies were going around it. Nearly autistic then, I had almost no tolerance for a change in routine. I hit Mrs. McGretty in the chest, causing her to go "Ooh!", and bawled. She sternly ordered me to sit on a blanket for the rest of the outdoor period. Some of the other kids told me when it was time to go in, but I initially refused. I was that grumpy. This incident may have influenced my aversion to horses throughout childhood, tho I generally chalked it up to stench.
Another nursery school memory was when we were individually told to take a certain number of a certain fruit from a basket. I was told to take one apple, which I did. That's it. You'd think that a moment like this wouldn't stay with me for 23 years, but it stood out to me for two reasons: (1) it seemed unusual for me to do something right and have things go uneventful in class; and (2) I was assigned only one item, which made me suspect that that was my mild punishment for my usual behavior. I didn't complain or tell my parents.