21 December 2011
16 December 2011
09 December 2011
I spent many happy days on this beach when I was a kid. From age 5 I'd go visit my Nannies and Pa, catching the train to Nowra with my sister, where we'd get picked up and taken to Vincentia. My Pa would wake us up at 6 every morning, to patrol the little beach for litter. We'd get back to the house by 7 or 8, where Nannies would be preparing a breakfast of muesli, toast and cut oranges. Yum, we loved these breakies. Then Pa would take us back to the beach where we'd swim and play cricket nearly all day. When I was a little older, Nannies taught me how to paint with oils.
So many more happy memories of this place, I'd almost forgotten them to a life of silly busy-ness.
Now, 30 years later, with baby Eve in tow, there's no more breakfasts by Nannies, and Pa rarely leaves the house. We get back there far too rarely, how did I let life get so busy? Now I'm missing this special place.
I realized on this trip, this place is the closest thing I have to a sense of home, a place with our history in it, with our early life memories, and happy ones too.. I so wish I could spend more time there, playing with Eve in the same place I played when I was a kid.