My kindergarden teacher, Sister Eubert, was a Dominican Nun
I did not care too much for her at first, she was not the warm friendly type,
But I can still recall the scent of her clean freshly starched habit
I used to wonder how long it took her to press that garment with all those creases and everything.
I loved to iron but only handkerchiefs and small square tablecloths

that's another story
A giant black rosary was fastened to her belt,
I used to think of it as a fashion accessory and copied that look at home
it was quite accessible if she needed to say a quick Hail Mary
you just never knew

I remember the way she hid her hands behind that big flap of fabric
and always had a clean hankie tucked into her sleeves
talk about a perfect manicure, with no polish of course
nuns never had dirt under their nails

I sat there daily and daydream about what her head really looked like
was she totally bald or did she have just a tiny wisp of hair,
or maybe she even sported bangs around the convent
when they all got together to let their hair down, so to speak
I wanted to be a nun until about 4th grade
if I couldn't be a martyr that is
until I saw the movie
THE NUN STORY
but that's another story

Did you ever notice the radiantly clear complexions nuns have
maybe it has something to do with never getting dirty
they are the most spotlessly clean creatures on the planet

If there was the slightest possibility of getting themselves soiled
they wore those over the head aprons
probably because washing and ironing those duds were such a pain

I loved the way my teachers hands possessing the precision of a surgeon,
could cut a piece of paper with her eyes closed and never make a mistake
I watched in awe as her fingers scanned the pages of her attendance book
calling out our names one at a time.
I had perfect attendance every single year for 9 years
but I digress

On the first day of school everything was fine although I was bit apprehensive
But the second day I was a basket case
I knew what was in store
My mom dragged me in the classroom kicking and screaming
Sister, or Stir as we called them
when we raised our hands and desperately wanted to be called on
took one look at me and calmly told my mother to leave
She then handed me a little tea cup and saucer and told me to go sit over at the little round table
and when I filled the tea cup with tears,
to come and get her and she would give me another.
I instantly stopped crying and took my place on Wall Street where I remained all year
I always wanted to sit on middle street
If you were a resident of middle street
whenever we formed a circle which we did each and every day
the middle street kids were the lucky ones who assembled themselves in the center in their very own circle
while window street and wall street formed the outside

My first girlfriends were Ginny Palmisano, and Helen Doberwitz.
I met them the second day of school on the only
indoor tetertauder I had ever seen

Ginny lived 2 blocks from me near the train tracks.
only a stones throw away
I had never laid eyes on her before even though her first cousin was a playmate of mine on the block.
because I was not allowed off the block and I never disobeyed my mother,
not after I broke my leg on my 5th birthday.

Helen lived on the other side of 95th street where all the cool kids lived.
We lived on the un cool side,
95th street instantly provokes a whole slew of memories for me,
It was the great divider
more about it later.

It was Helen I named Katie's alter ego after
years later
another story
see post

yet

to this day

whenever I see a tea cup I think of my kindergarten teacher