Can't Go Back and Don't Wanna

Trying to keep ekeing away at the old journals written when I was in my teens. I don’t much want to, but there’s no other way except either storing them or chucking them without keeping sakes worth keeping.

Inside cover

For instance, I won't part with this letter from Mom, written in March 1978. Little sister Joan’s letter is printed on the other side; I’m sure I’ve posted it before. 

A ha! I see Mom sometimes did exactly what she wanted instead of what she thought she "should," too. Good.

There are a few things amusing to see, but destined for Dumpsville or the fire I plan to build. Not today, maybe, as it’s been raining since I got up.

We girls often went "for coffee" when I was in Grade 12, and someone sketched us:

Barry, the first beau with whom I began vigorous calisthenics at age 18.

When Cathy and I were roommates.

And finally, for those who don't connect with me on Facebook, here's a flyer from the drive-in from around the time I lived in Saskatoon and went to university:

Click to enlarge.