Thursday, September 20, 2007
For the first 7 grades of my schooling, I went to a Catholic school. Ah, what tales I could tell. But this one is about Sister Harriet.
Sister Harriet was my English teacher in 7th grade. She was a short, forbidding figure who really knew her stuff and made sure her students knew it too (without hitting anyone - or at least that I remember...maybe I've blocked it out). These were the days of diagramming sentences, which you youngsters don't do anymore (I don't think). I actually loved diagramming sentences (geek, or is it nerd?), and learned so much about grammar from it.
I also had drilled into me the importance of good spelling, proper usage of words, etc. That's why I'd make a good editor, or at least I used to. As I get older I slip more and more, and each time I do, I can just see Sister Harriet rolling over in her grave, or even perhaps flipping me off from heaven.
Oh, and btw, no, she did NOT look like the flying nun. I'm not even sure I remember her ever smiling!
[and, for G, then we kissed]