I have wanted to do a post about my childhood for awhile, and I haven't gotten around to it until now for personal reasons, (which I won't go in to). Don't worry, I'm not going to go into my birth, I'm just going to talk about things that I remember clearly.
I remember when we moved to Tory Street. I was 1 and a bit, and my sister, Bianca was only just born. The house Mum and Dad bought was a really runed-down house, with a sleep-out in the backyard. I particularly remember the kitchen. Half of the floor was vinyl, the other half was wood. I distinctly remember the smell of bleach. Janola is what it was. And there was also a vase on the bench, which was recently broken.
In the sleep-out, I remember the stench of petrol. Which oddly enough, I liked. The thing was a dump. It was like a rumbas room mixed with 70's hippie junkyard. Dad always go in there and do things. I still don't know to this day what the hell he did in there most of the time, but I know he was doing something he loves. Sometimes I think of what I do, and I'm just like my old man! I think that's what keeps me and my old man sane.