I think it was a live black and white television broadcast because as I walked up and palmed the white moon men on the tv screen in my nappies, I was scolded hard. I think that's why I remember. The next memory a few months later on Christmas morning 1969 was waking up and finding in my room wrapped in red and blue cellophane (which makes purple to look through), a plastic inflatable orange blue yellow beachball. Is that all? Boy was I upset. Obviously it was bought for our day at the beach. I now appreciate these economies.
Outside in the garden and nature strip were just so many butterflies. White or black & brown mostly. Rarely see them now. Up in the tree were furry caterpillars and centipedes on the fencing, ladybirds, snails, flies, dragonflies, bull ants, wow. On the street was dried yellow straw horse manure from the milk cart during the week. In the drive Mum had an FJ, then Triumph. Dad has a Morris minor ute or something then a crimson Statesman with a front grill design inspired by the Acropolis. The neighbour said there's treasure in the garden beds. She put some nice stones around the place for us to find over the holidays.
As I got older, during school holidays I took dad's air rifle and shot the fruit. Oops looks like the happy story is over, heavenly bliss turned into the naughty corner in the laundry with the stringy smelly grey mop.
