when i was 11 i think i was working – i know i was helping on the farm for sure and i think at least picking strawberries all summer if not working as a tiny janitor by then… oh no, now i remember we had just left my dad and i was with my mom, my aunt (who thought it was such a good idea that she left her husband too) and living in a bachelor suite – 2 adults, 7 kids from 11 (me, the oldest) to 3 (my little sister). my mom and aunt were trying to support us on minimum wage. i was working cleaning the theatre that we lived above. we used to put our ears to the floor to hear the soundtracks of the movies we didn’t get to see.
so, anyway, out today with zev and jessie, who are 11 year old boys – hot chocolates, banana bread, magazines, tag in the parking lot… the rain pouring down. a world full of things to buy and do. and now we’re about to make gingerbread houses. i think i made my first gingerbread house when i was thirteen – i made it for dinner for the kids! i had to make dinner for everyone by then and made some really bad choices 🙂 it never occurred to me that it wasn’t a meal.