Who I am.

When I was a little girl, I used to teach.

My students were stuffed animals. My favorite was an old scraggly orange, one- eyed cat who I affectionately called Garfield.

My classroom was a small bedroom filled to the brim with all things lavender. My Daddy built my furniture. My quilts and curtains were made with help by my little hands, usually while sitting in my Momma’s lap. The whirl of the sewing machine was a magical sound.

Hand me downs were cut up to make classroom dresses- though I wasn’t supposed to brag to the donors about that fact.

I taught Garfield and my other students to read, write and how to dance in the garden behind our house. I taught them about manners, and baths and how to avoid them at all costs. I think I even I taught them to swear, though I wouldn’t have admitted it then. We learned to cook, crochet and went on adventures with the boys. We rambled dirt roads, woods, and fields of wild flowers- usually barefoot- where we picked handfuls for my Momma who would hug me tight and promptly place them in a makeshift mason jar vase.  We picked up rocks, planted roses and watched Saturday morning cartoons while  blanket clad in the sunshine.

I’m not a little girl anymore. I don’t teach, nor do I abhor baths. Lavender is still one of  my favorite colors and I still get flowers for my Momma, who still promptly finds the nearest glass vessel to put them in. I still love to read and write, and even dance. I still wear my hair in braids- baseball caps and long dresses are still typical summer attire. I still love to sew, though I don’t seem to make the time to do it any more. I’m a sucker for anything rose scented and wrapped up blanket clad in the sunshine is one of my favorite ways to spend Saturday mornings, or any morning for that matter.

I still pick up rocks, still cook… my crochet skills still lack.

Still roam dirt roads.

Barefoot.

Adventure still calls.

I am Sunshine.

This is who I am.