Remember? The night I complained so much about having to go to bed that Dad made me stay up until telly closed down. Thank goodness it was before 24-hour programming.
Remember? There was a loose brick in the steps to Nana's clothesline that was always loose, all my life at least. Undoing the ropes to bring the line down, hanging the clothes out, then tying the ropes up again. Seeing how high the lines would go, the cold wind off the river whipping the clothes and sheets around.
Remember? Playing at the Bristow's, spending most of the day running between the trees in their garden. Helping Jenny to feed the cats in the cattery. We were up in the tree house, and it'd taken me ages and a lot of summoned-up-from-air courage to get up there - I didn't want to seem like a little girl with Jenny and Adam - when Mrs Bristow called out to me from the house, that Dad was on the phone. Jenny and Adam must've known what it was about, because all of a sudden, everyone was shouting to me to hurry, and I freaked out so much that I didn't climb down the ladder, I just slid down the trunk and could feel the insides of my legs all skinned and sore as I ran to the house. Then Dad was telling me that I had a little sister, and it was the first time that words seemed too big to deal with right now. I wanted to tell him that my legs were sore, and that I'd climbed up to the tree house by myself, but I knew it wasn't the time.
Remember? Lying in bed, reading a book about Greeks with Mum. She explained to me about Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and Alexander the Great. The things I learned that day have come in handier than you'd think.
Remember? The taste of Nana's chops, Mum's roast chicken, Dad's bacon and eggs, Kimberley's dauphinoise, Martin's spag bol, anything by Ruth or Ginny, Fidel's eggs benedict, Colonial Cafe's apple shortcake ...Remember? The day that Sweeney was born and his upper lip was so enormous.
Remember? The day that Harper was born and his nose seemed so enormous.