Abbey senses something special about the little man tending the reindeer who, along with an old farmhouse, was a gift to Abbey. She and husband Steve, together since the '60s, move in just before the holidays. Now 30 years later, they're looking forward to their boys coming home for Christmas. Turns out this Christmas proves to be more magical than anticipated!
Friday, April 27, 2012
My love of chalkboards goes back to when I was growing up in the country and playing in the chicken coop clubhouse that had been gutted and filled with the remains of a one-room schoolhouse. This included the books, desks and one chalkboard. That's where the love affair began. It's where my cousin and I turned our imaginations up full speed and when we did it most always included using our chalkboard.
That was especially true when playing school. Our pretend students would be called up one-by-one to fill in the answers to math problems or to draw shapes or to spell words or to connect a stick drawing to the matching word. If we were playing Cowboy, the chalkboard would tell tired passengers stopping at our pretend restaurant what the specials were for the day. It also gave the arrival and departure times of the pretend stagecoach. If we were teaching art the chalkboard, sitting on top of a small stool so we'd be able to reach it, was on overload.
Intrigue of chalkboards followed me into middle school. I remember being chosen to write the words of the week every Monday morning for a month on the chalkboard. I had so much fun. It made Mondays bearable. It also made my teacher tell me to hury up. I'd spent enough time at the chalkboard.
Chalkboards are no longer used in schools for health reasons. While I understand I remain thankful that when I went to school I was able to draw or write or doodle on a chalkboard. Chalkboards were just part of the routine and had always been part of my growing up out in the country.