Throwback Thursday: Little Bitt’s Life

My mom was going through old things to take to a consignment sale when she came across one of my earliest-known journalistic works: a biography of my hamster. It’s a pretty short work: four pages of notebook paper stapled together. The first is a title page and the other three have short paragraphs of surprisingly legible handwriting.

LB

The title page to “Little Bitt’s Life.”

I don’t know exactly how old I was when I wrote it. The story says I got the hamster for Christmas 1992, so I would have been 8, but I don’t know when the hamster died or when I decided to give an account for his time on earth.  I was home schooled at the time and I’m pretty sure it was not a part of my school work.

I write about getting him and naming him, about my brother also getting a hamster, about going to my grandmother’s house to spend the night, and about my sister finding Little Bitt near death in his cage. “We still don’t know how he deid, but he did,” I wrote before summing it up quite succinctly with “the End.”

lb1

Little Bitt the hamster

I do remember the hamster well. I loved that hamster. I used to put him on my shoulder and walk around the house with him. I remember begging my mom and dad for a hamster. I didn’t think they would get me one, but low and behold, on Christmas Day, here was this tiny baby hamster. I called him Little Bitt because of his size but I think it was also a reference to a popular cartoon of the time.

lb3

This is me (with pinkeye maybe?) holding one of my family’s hamsters, but not Little Bitt. I think this one belonged to my brother.

The story has pretty good spelling and grammar, considering a child wrote it. And it’s not much of a story, but it has a beginning, middle and and end. It’s fun to go through old personal artifacts like this and get a glimpse kid Lori. I like it that she was already writing even then.

**UPDATE: as requested, the following is the full text of Little Bitt’s Life.

   

   

Experiments in blackout poetry

Here’s a new, nerdy hobby my fellow word lovers may enjoy. It’s called blackout poetry, and you basically use a newspaper (after reading it of course) and black out all but a few words that make a poem of sorts. It sounds simpler than it is. The poems aren’t always masterpieces, but it’s fun and I like the idea of writing poetry in AP Style.

I got the idea from writer Austin Kleon, who actually did a whole book of them.

Here are a few of the ones I’ve done so far:

notworried

 

I’m not worried; I think we’re OK.

 

 

new1

New scenes, different creation. We have sought unusual, surprising pieces.

 

bizarresmall

He is bizarre, but the world thinks kindly of it.

 

pantsuitsmall

I want a maroon pantsuit. That would be amazing.

 

way

There’s a way, maybe. All sound good but none pan out.

 

haveto

 

You have to get up, but it’s tough.

 

I’m doing more of these plus haikus and pictures and stuff on tumblr at lorithebraveone.tumblr.com. And you should check out Kleon’s at newspaperblackout.com.

On Lent (the mess I am)

I missed the Ash Wednesday service at church this year, but it’s usually my favorite time of year. I like the entire Lenten season. It’s a reminder of my humanity and the messes we humans make.

I spend much of my time trying to hide my messes, and I am mostly messes.

I am the girl who’s rushing out the door with breakfast still in my hands, brushing crumbs from my face as I walk to work again late again.

I’m the girl crying again after too much wine for reasons I can’t put into words.

I’m the girl whose search for love has at times caused wounds that haven’t quite healed, who has wrecked and been wrecked by relationships.

I’m the girl who first took the apple, turning it over in my hands before taking a bite

I’m the girl the Pharisees and scribes wanted to stone

And instead of trying to hide it, You put ash on my forehead, a sign the world can see.

And You ask me to walk with You a while to the cross

Come on, you say. We’re coming to a hill.

My bike is lonely (an ode to Spring in deep Winter)

Roadmaster Discoverer

We’re expecting 6 inches of snow and I am longing for my bike, which is lonely in my living room where it has been untouched since the fall turned chilly.

If the weather were nicer, I’d pedal down to Magic Island and sit on a swing set, I’d ride it to Taylor’s and have coffee.

But I can’t.

We’re getting more snow. And I can’t wait for Spring.