The Easter school holidays are upon us once again, and this is the first year we’ve celebrated one of only 2 designated annual “chocolate for breakfast” days, without G1.
She’s tottered off to the big smoke to visit her mate, with 2 other mates from home!
My country mouses first solo city holiday! Awwww!
They’re having a ball, and keeping me grinning with regular updates on clothes purchases and teen style “hanging out” photos.
I’ve mentioned in previous posts about my solo city escapades (train stations still freak me out), but I did get to take a friend a few times, and those trips are standouts!
My bestest buddy, whom I’ll call B for this instance, came along for her first trip with me when we were about 13 or 14. We stayed at my Grandparents in Redbank then visited my other grandparents in Woodridge, and had a stint on Stradbroke at my uncles. It was a cool trip!
While in Redbank B and I would play pool, listen to our Walkmans and hang out in the mulberry tree on the rail line, admiring the train graffiti and painting ourselves head to toe in delicious purple mulberry juice, realising too late how great mulberries are at staining EVERYTHING, and accidentally discovering that moisturiser (thankfully) removes mulberry stain from skin. (Sadly not clothes).
We’d walk to the plaza and shop, not that we had much to spend (by the look of the photos we bought T&C socks and matching Elton John glasses). But I did buy my favourite ever “Pussy/Chicken” hat. And we may have bought a mouse.
Why on earth not!
They were like, $3! And came with a biscuit. And a small cardboard box each!!!!
Now, in retrospect, my grandma may have been a tad OCD. The plastic runner in the hall perhaps a dead giveaway. But I knew, well before the purchase, that there was NO WAY, she would accept our little darlings with the hospitality they deserved. So we hid them.
We hid them underneath our perfectly made guest bed, between perfect puffy pillows, soft teddies and ironed hankies (not really under the hankies, but they were there).
They were dearly loved and taken care of, even traveling with us on the train into the city, for a day in the Myers Centre on roller coasters and dodge em cars, and sharing our cheeseburgers.
It was on the walk back to my Grandmas house from the city that we realised it was unfair of us to keep these wild creatures in their stuffy boxes, and the joint decision was made to release them back into the wild (yes as a grown up I realise the ridiculousness of this thought process).
And so our beloved pets (I don’t recall their names) ran free, and we returned to the mulberry tree.
I shudder to think how much strife we, or I, would have been in had we been discovered! And I shake my head at the irresponsible-Ness of us buying and releasing pets! Stupid heads!
But gosh we had a ball!
So now as I vicariously live through G1s first city trip, I am filled with nostalgia and happiness!
But please remember G1, mice are not just for the holidays.