I’m feeling a bit nostalgic today. I’m copying some of Seymour’s CDs onto my computer for my later listening pleasure, and so many of the songs are ones I listened to growing up. He’s got albums by Reba McIntyre and Alan Jackson, Diamond Rio and Shenandoah, Alabama and Tanya Tucker, and a five-disc set of classic Disney tunes…
I’m having a ton of fun listening to them all as they copy; it’s like taking a walk down memory lane with a group of old friends:
I found these while I was going through my filing cabinet this afternoon. (Gotta do something while I wait for CDs to rip.) If you’re like me, you grew up before cell phones were ubiquitous and did your own fair share of note-passing. I’ve got tins of them left over from high school, and every now and then I dig them out and look through them again.
To discourage unintended viewing, we sometimes wrote them like this:
Believe it or not, I can still read this. The key is long since gone, but this was the code we used most often, so even after fifteen years, I can still tell you what it says. (Spoiler alert: It was about a boy.)
Were you a note-passer in school? Did you ever get caught?
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Miss Tadpole
Winter, in all its monochrome glory, is now firmly entrenched in my backyard. Since my current view is something like the image to the left, I find myself longing for a bit of color.



