A Little Autistic Free online reading

The yard was a huge piece of property with a forest out back (or at least a few dozen trees). We had a barn and a horse (really a very small pony, but I didn’t know that then) named Romeo, because he liked to roam—often ending up out of the fenced pasture and out on the street. We had chickens, as well, in a coop by the barn up at the edge of the forest.

Mostly, I remember climbing the trees and hanging upside down from branches until my head hurt, then climbing higher and going upside down again. As an autist, much of life now feels like seeing the world from upside down, so I guess it was good practice.

Not diagnosed until age 46, author Mette Marie Ivie's memoir about an autistic childhood in a family that was probably filled with other autists, is a story of unique gifts, as well as challenges, that come to a linguistic/story-telling kind of autistic savant.