T-Team, The Younger–Happy Hunting Ground

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.

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Monday Musings

I remember as a young teenager being upset because my older brother would be invited to parties and not me. I remember standing at the kitchen counter, invitation to my brother in hand and complaining, ‘It’s not fair. I’m friends with them too. Why wasn’t I invited?’

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What am I doing here on Earth? What is my purpose? And a sadness creeps over me. Am I going to wander this vast empty space alone? All my life? Forever? I put down my spoon of my untouched porridge. Must be something in the water. I’m not hungry today.