Old School Paper

Awhile ago, LadyStyx mentioned she wrote a multi-paged paper for one of her childhood classes that described her room in great detail - at the time I was struck by the comment, since I had done the same thing. While looking for pictures of the John Brown Liberty ship that LadyStyx mentioned in her entry detailing her visit to Baltimore's Inner Harbor, I didn't find the pictures, but I did find the old school paper.

Rereading this paper brought back vivid memories of the room I shared with my younger brother for at least a dozen years. I do not remember what grade I was in when I wrote the paper - I can visualize the teacher and her endearing smile, but very little else.



Mrs Lau -- Karl Mousley
-- Period One

"Your roof is leaking again, get the bucket," my mom said wearily.

"Ok, Ok," I replied twice as wearily, stumbling through the assorted pieces of accumulated junk. I found the bucket easily as it was the only thing that didn't have sixteen layers of dust on it. The bucket only had seven. Placing the bucket on the center of my bed was a painful act. I sat on the edge of bed and thought, "It wouldn't matter if this junk got wet."

The junk looked familiar; it was all my earthly belongings. On the top of the pile on the floor was my ragged, six-year-old baseball glove. I hadn't thrown it away because I had become attached to it. Along side of it lay my stack of old magazines. I had kept the magazines to keep the dust off the goldfish bowl. There weren't any goldfish anymore. (The fish might have died from the shock that looking at my room produces.) The bowl now holds marbles, string, pencils, and a few broken crayons. Above this pile, or rather, partly beneath it, is my desk. My desk serves only to hold up a good color television set, except I never got around to plugging it in. On top of the television set, are a few worn out paper backs, used to keep the dust off the t.v. and to keep it from being scratched.

Above my desk is a bookshelf. the bookshelf is my handy place for candles, pencils, pencil sharpeners, wooden animals, model cars, clay sculptures, penny collections, old newspapers, wheels, and an apple core. I threw the apple core away just now. The prize, however, is a string-less yo-yo, and that joined the apple core. There are no books, mind you. Above this shelf is another one, this one has books on it. (Wow!) a clock, and a dirty sneaker. Oh, by the way the clock is not plugged in. I shall endeavor to explain why it wasn't plugged in. The sockets are full, all eight of them. A dirty, greasy lamp that takes a socket, is on a bureau on my left. The top of this bureaus is the only thing I can keep clean. A radio claims a socket and the pencil sharpener I mentioned is plugged in too. My tape recorder has another socket. A brand new hot dog cooker is plugged in too. Why do I have a hot dog cooker plugged in? Well, that's easy to answer. I was cooking hot dogs! Lights of various types including a black-light claim the rest of the outlets of electricity.

In a few, very few, places you can barely discern the red, white, and blue wallpaper. I've been told the rug's the same color, but I wouldn't know. the ceiling thank heaven is still white.

In wondering what to do about the leak, I remembered my brother had drilled a hole through his upper bunk of the bunk bed and that is why the water falls right on through. I realize my brother is a genius; I fall back from the pain that this revelation causes me and cause the half-full bucket of water to overturn and it pours into my face.

---

Mrs. Lau's comments: An excellent description, Karl. You've not only listed items, but mentioned colors, giving your reader a feeling for the disorder and included much detail. It's this detail which probably does half the job of communicating to your reader what your room is like. It sounds like a great room to live in, to visit, but I wouldn't like to be the mother of it's occupant. Maybe your mom is more relaxed than another person I know.