Having recently had my old man pass away memories of growing up have been strong in my mind lately. My favourites would have to be –
Getting a clip under the ear and a lecture from the old man for sneaking onto the local rifle range to dig through the mounds to get lead to make into sinkers for fishing. Followed by watching the old man get a lecture from his mum about going crook on the kids for something he did as a kid. “that was different” wasn’t a defence. Love my nanna.
Fishing with the old man and nanna on the river bank next to the abattoir outlet pipe. Watching nanna with a fish hook stuck in her finger, casually push it through, snip the barb off with the pliers and then pull it back through and keep fishing. No fuss, no drama, no 4 hours in ED.
Walking down the main street on a Saturday morning as a 12 year old with a .22 slung over my shoulder to go rabbiting. And where was my old man while I was loose with this lethal weapon ? About a step to the left.
Sadly today the first memory would be child abuse, the second would be elder neglect or some such and the third would probably be child abuse or too dangerous or a blood sport or some other dung.
To the original poster (and all contributors) thanks for starting (and continuing) this thread. Reading the posts brought back a lot of memories.
