Tags

Chris tagged me earlier in the week. And since he's good enough to answer my call for participation in NaBloPoMo, I'll answer his call, too.

But first, a little meditation on tagging. Because isn't it funny that in this context it has the old playground meaning of "I tag you! You're it!" But usually (when blogging) I think of tags as labels, ways of identifying posts. (Not that I've got the tagging going on here so much.) Then there are the tags sewn into our clothes, though some t-shirts now have them stamped in.

Tags. What are you? You're it: you have to tell us. All righty, then. Five things you might not know about me:

1. When I was in the third grade, I had a pair of purple jeans. They were really something.

2. When I was five, I had a dog named Poochie. Or so I called him. Everyone else seemed to call him "Skipper." Whatever.

3. I won a radio once.

4. In the fifth grade, I lived in Uvalde, TX. While there, I won a red ribbon in an oral interpretation contest and a yellow ribbon in a spelling contest.

5. A family of ghosts lived in the air conditioner at my house. My parents still live in the house. I'm not sure about the ghosts.