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CHAPTER II My mind changed with the sensitiveity of spring, summer, and fall, watched through the windows of a secure home. The summer deepened in it's color, and as they had wished, their children began to return to school. I saw them walking up the hill, when I was alone in the bathroom, which I always really liked, because I could lock the door and be afraid of the spiders spinning dreams I and only I was afraid of. The spiders were seldom, but I was small so they were forever there. Everything was tile, but it wasn't like bathrooms borrowed from the world. It was my bathroom and the mirror belonged to me so strongly, that it became a matter of course for legs and soft toes, but rummy for the future, to stand on the top-down toilet seat and watch the mirror above the sink love me in the morning, until the sun spoke of my neighbors' watching. I was young enough to understand their peeking on a someday morning, and I would leave my right hand window level with my knees and run finally falling down carpet stairs to watch my seasons change on a red and long couch covered with mom made quilts. Always in the morning under lace curtained windows, tip toes paid in a spanking, while children marched to school without Captain me. JACK, please come off that couch and eat your breakfast before Dad comes down for his. I walked from the living room through the hall and sat in the one chair pulled up under the little-white-kitchen table near the stove. My mother put her spoon into a steaming pan and I watched as my oatmeal with Raisins in it was gently dropped in one big gob into my bowl. The way my mother talked walking to the ice-box, it was as if spring came so soon that year, that winter went as calmly as snow melting in a small brook.