Christmas has come and gone. And after all the craziness and work and effort and family, it was so fantastic just to get home on Boxing Day. And after getting through the next day of work, it finally felt like I was on holiday.
This year I went to my parents' house for Christmas lunch with my own little family. And it was very poignant, and happy, and sad; for after forty years my parents are selling their home, the house in which I grew up, to move up the Coast and be near me.. which is exciting in itself..
I just wanted to wander around the garden and feel the memories.. Always, when I think of my childhood, it's the garden I remember most vividly. For this is where I remember spending all of my time. I probably didn't. But it just felt like I did.
There were always packs of kids. Swimming in the pool, playing Marco Polo, Pool Volleyball or Dive-y Across. Or belting around the garden playing Destroy the A and Tinny. Hanging upside-down on the old swing set, performing gymnastic feats. Or, in the case of my neighbour, knocking out her front (new) adult tooth. At night we would force my parents to make their coffee in the dark as we played Spotlight, squeezing into spider infested crannies behind the old shed and brick BBQ. Swimming some more. Sucking the honey out of the little red flowers around the pool. Walking around and around and around the house on home-made stilts. Riding our bikes up and down the driveway. Climbing trees and spending hours up there. Building cubby houses and digging ditches. We had fun...endless fun
So I ambled around the garden, and took some photos, for keepsakes. The garden has changed a bit now, since we kids grew up and moved out. My Mum was finally able to put in her fishpond, her rose garden and other grown up stuff. But to me, It'll always be the garden of my childhood. And for that, I'll always be grateful.