Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities
I was looking over back-to-school supply lists from area schools this month — ‘tis the season, after all, even for those of us whose children are grown.
It took me back to my own elementary days even as I realized that many of the items on today’s lists weren’t even invented when I was a kid: dry erase markers, highlighters, hand sanitizer, and zip lock bags, to name a few.
One beloved item from my youth remains on every list I saw, however, much to my delight.
Crayons.
I was a kid who loved school. Getting that brand new box of crayons each August may have been one of the reasons why.
If school supply lists existed in the 1960s, I don’t remember seeing one. What did we need, after all, besides a thick tablet of pulpy wide-lined paper, a fat pencil or two, and a fresh box of crayons?
(Oh wait. Blunt scissors. Designed to cut absolutely nothing. For some reason, we all needed those.)
Ours was a 24-count family. My brothers and I each got a new 24-count box of crayons every fall, as did most of our classmates … with one memorable exception.
One boy in my class showed up each year with that sublime and glorious 64-count box of crayons. You know. The one with the “built-in sharpener.”
He was the envy of all.
Or at least of me.
I can’t recall if I ever worked up my courage and actually asked my parents for a 64-count box, or if I only secretly envied my classmate’s box, knowing that my parents would never spring for such an unnecessary extravagance.
I have vivid memories of envious sideways glances at that box anytime we had a coloring assignment at school.
A few years ago … well into my 50s … I treated myself. The 64-count box (still with “built-in sharpener”) is on a desk near me. All the points are still sharp because they are too beautiful to use.
I tip back the lid now and again for a deep sniff that rockets me back to elementary school and all that I loved.
If I ever decided to color again, I’m not sure I could stand to break into this collection. I might need to pick up a new 24-count box instead and return to my roots.
My red, yellow, blue, brown, orange, green, violet, black, carnation pink, yellow orange, blue green, red violet, red orange, yellow green, blue violet, white, violet red, dandelion, cerulean, apricot, scarlet, green yellow, indigo, and gray roots, of course.
I’ll have to sharpen them myself.
Maybe those blunt nose scissors can do the trick.
Betty Williamson, on certain days, is a 6-year-old at heart. Reach her at: