January 29 2011
OVER Christmas, while visiting Melbourne, I stopped outside my nana’s old home.
I drove down the tree-lined avenue that was instantly familiar and walked the street where I played as a child. We lived for a long time in that house. My grandparents took us in when my father was trying to set up business. One of my sisters was born in the house and we played in the huge backyard, using the trees as caves, eating guavas and gooseberries from the trees, and playing imaginary cowgirls, riding the piano stool to victory. Sitting outside the house, I remembered with painful joy my nana and papa dozing by the briquette heater. Continue Reading →