So, while tourists snap their memories of Glenelg frozen in time, for me images of my childhood and grown-up years remain fluid, layers in my head and marinated with the changes and experiences over the decades. Glenelg has changed; the land/seascape of my memories unrecognisable as the shops, the trams, the jetty and the coastline shift and develop. Although some places have changed, some have stayed the same.Read more "TK-Team @ Home: Glenelg"
C1 and C2 picked out miscellaneous items they’d forgotten to pack. C1 placed his purchases on the weathered bench and reached for his back pocket. He patted it, and his eyes widened. He jammed his fingers into his pocket, patted his side pockets, and pushed his hands into them and pulled out the lining. He glanced around his feet. ‘Oh, oh! I think I left my wallet behind in the creek,’ he said.Read more "T-Team 1981–Flinders Ranges"
Ah! A spring picnic at Brown Hill Creek. I loved picnics with Mummy, Daddy and Richard, my eleven-year-old brother. Brown Hill Creek in the Adelaide foothills had paths lined with eucalyptus trees, and a creek filled with yabbies and tadpoles for Richard and me to hunt. I imagined Brown Hill Creek as the perfect “happy hunting ground” for cats.Read more "T-Team, The Younger–Happy Hunting Ground"
Yet after all the fuss and bother, the K-Team managed to avoid a “Monarto-Rebellion”, and of all the daytrips, this one was the best attended.Read more "K-Team South Australia–Monarto…"
Dad hopped around the campsite, his hands on his buttocks. ‘I need Richard to perform a delicate operation.’
Richard shook his head and sniggered. ‘He sat in spinifex.’
Watching Richard pull needles out of Dad’s bare behind was not high on my to-do list.
I turned to hike up to the spring. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ And left in haste climbing up the hill
Another thing was for sure. We had reached Brachina Gorge after a long day of driving and everyone was, let’s just say, less than civil with each other.Read more "T-Team, Young and Restless in Brachina Gorge"
Richard (my brother) hobbled past, toilet paper in hand. Then stillness. A parrot squawked. A gust of wind rustled leaves in the gum trees and sent ripples lapping against the pebbles on the shore. I absorbed the peace and coolness.Read more "T-Team 1981: The Other Side of Ormiston"
While our parents reclined on their deckchairs or woollen blankets, nursing their full stomachs of too much cheese sandwiches, bratwurst and apple kuchen, my brother Richard and I asked if we could go for a walk.
‘Don’t go too far,’ Mum said.
‘Don’t get lost,’ Dad said. ‘Look after your little sister.’
‘Yes, I will,’ Richard who had just turned ten said. I was five.
Having taken twice as long to get to Basel, and then taking time to squeeze into a very narrow car park in the middle of the city, once released from the confines of the car, Granny went in search of toilet facilities.Read more "Postcards 2: Basel, Switzerland"
After picking up the Duster from the office, Hubby embarked on the challenge of driving in Amsterdam on the right side of the road. He took a little while to adjust to not over-compensating and bumping into the kerb on the right. Which he did a few times.Read more "Postcards: Amsterdam"