I love to write. I love nothing more than a stack of pens and a notebook - I'll doodle endlessly, write whatever comes to mind or even write stories. I have stacks of notebooks with cheesy stories in them that Christina & I used to write when we were toiling overnight at work. What's strange to me is that despite my teachers attempts in school to get me to hate handwriting, I love it!

When I was in 2nd grade, I got zeroes in handwriting. Mr. Wallace, my teacher, said I wrote too fast and too messy. I remember the tests we had where he would say a sentence and we had to write it down word for word. I was always the first one done and at one point he actually said to me, "If I look up and you're the first one done, you're getting a zero!" I wrote as slow as I could and was still the first one done. I outlined every letter three times before Eric Nickerson finished and I could put down my pencil.

In 3rd grade I moved to a new school, one where they hadn't learned to write in cursive yet. I was taught how to in 2nd grade at my other school so I started off the school year writing in cursive. Mrs. Kynor, who was notorious for hating the girl students, gave me zeroes because no one else knew cursive yet. Like that's my fault y'all are slow!! I was informed I would damage the other students' morale if they saw me writing cursive while they were still printing. Pfft! Whatever!

After a while, my handwriting didn't matter to teachers any longer and I was able to indulge in my speedy writing ways. I remember one time playing a game that included writing with my Grandma & Grandpa Widegren and Grandpa watching me saying, "It's amazing how fast Heather writes and you can still read it!" I wished so bad he could call up Mr. Wallace and tell him that!

Labels: stories

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