Today’s topic is “tell a story from your childhood”

Oi really, do I have to? LOL! That was very long ago, you do realise how old I am right?!

I don’t think you’ve heard these on this blog…

When I was in primary school, my mom worked full-time so we (my brother and I… my sister was born when I was in high school) went to an aftercare centre after school. Now this was a very long time ago in apartheid times. I can remember quite a lot from that afterschool actually. Some good, some not so good. But mostly good. It’s amazing how your brain eventually just stores the good stories, and mellows the not so good memories.

I remember climbing the mulberry tree in the garden to eat the mulberries. We climbed that tree every day and spent most of our afternoons in it. Those mulberries were so very yummy! There were also other fruit trees on the property but they never tasted great.  I loved the times in that tree.

I remember having an afternoon snack in the mid afternoon, and we always looked forward to days where we got marie biscuits with butter on them… ooh ooh or white bread with butter and sugar! That was a treat. Cannot remember what we got on other days, I’m kinda remembering bread and jam. I only remember the good days.

We used to travel in this old combi on wooden benches nailed to the sides of the van. If you got to the combi late, you didn’t get a seat on the benches so you’d have to sit on the floor in the middle amongst the school bags. No freaking way that would be acceptable now!! LOL! Anyway, we used to drop some kids off at houses on the way to aftercare after school, and we used to travel down dirt roads to get to the plots. Those roads are mostly tarred now. The combi used to backfire, causing us to jump… and the idiot who owned the school loved to make the combi backfire when he was driving past black women carrying loads of food on their heads walking along the roads. And then he’d laugh. It made me cry… yes.. I’ve always been a softy.

I’m so glad my kids will never experience that.

I also remember having to change in a communal room with all the other kids. Now when I was smaller that wasn’t that much of a problem, but I didn’t like it, as you can imagine, when I got to the end of primary school. I became a whizz at completely changing into new clothes while still fully dressed in my school clothes. It’s amazing what you can do to protect yourself.

Goodness, didn’t think I’d have this much to write… think I need to stop now. You know what struck me when I was writing this… that my first memories about the place were about food, and then the other things started becoming clear.