Dedicated to My Two Furry Rascals And All My Past Furry Mates!
Life would not be the same without my two best mates. They're never far from my side. All through my life I've either had one cat or two. My first cat, named "Socksie" was adorable. Here is the story of my first love.
My earliest recollections of my childhood extend back to an era when, even if briefly, life was simple, uncomplicated and happy. The way life is supposed to be for a young child. Sheltered from turmoils and hardships, I was allowed to run free within the safety of the boundaries set.
My mother, grandmother, older brother and I lived in premises attached to a little grocery store, in a seaside area east of Mackay. My mother had remarried. Our stepfather was also part of the equation. I felt no warmth towards him. Rarely did I encourage his attention nor did I venture to reach out to him. He was a violent man who harboured darkness in his soul. Truthfully, in reflection, I don't believe I was fearful of him. With the candour of a small child, I simply did not like him.
The store, situated close to the beach, catered to locals and regular day-trippers who came to enjoy the pleasures of the seaside. Laughter and eager chatter filled the air as folk, in brightly coloured clothes, sat under the pergola at tables adorned in crisp red and white gingham tablecloths. Bougainvillea decoratively draped itself over weather-beaten lattice. The aroma of sandwiches freshly prepared from warm bread filled the air. Each morning, I stood on tiptoes straining my small body to see above the edge of the table, as my mother prepared snacks for the hungry patrons. In eager anticipation, I watched as she cut the crusts from the bread. The crunchy tidbits bore remnants of the tasty filling of the sandwiches. These mouth-watering morsels became my special treat day after day. In my childish mind, I thought I was helping in my own small way as I hovered around my mother.
Although I had no friends of my own age, I wasn’t lonely. With the ocean nearby, I spent many hours in the cool, calm waters or played along the beach, collecting shells and chasing the hordes of Soldier Crabs. Fortunately, I learned to swim at an early age. Because of this, I wasn't a worry to my mother or to my grandmother. My brother spent little time with me, as he was almost three years older than I. Being a girl, I compounded the problem. Often he became impatient with me, storming off in boyish disgust. He had already commenced school. He had his own group of friends, which, of course, excluded girls. Alone, in my own world, I dwelt, playing with my dolls. They were the only company I needed, I thought, until one wondrous day.
Fun acrylic "Feeling Groovy" and graphite drawing "Curiosity Didn't Kill The Cat" painted and drawn by me.