The loveliest of all

I spent the first 12 years of my life in a little red-brick house at 35 Ashbury Street, Adamstown Heights.

It was one of those childhoods where all the kids rode their scooters up and down the footpath together and ran wild in the bush over the back fence and played marbles in each other’s front yards.


My sister’s best friend from birth was a girl called Lindy, who lived three doors down from us.


All these years later they’re still besties, and Lindy has been housesitting for my sister while she’s on a cruise to NZ.

Lindy and her hubby John (who … small world … was mates with my first boyfriend) invited me over last night for a barbie and we had THE most lovely evening.


I talked A LOT, but I don’t think I talked too much, hopefully just the right amount. Well, not the right amount in shy and retiring company, but Lindy enjoys a good natter.

It’s a bit freaky that I’ve known Lindy since she was a baby and now we’re barreling towards 50 (me much sooner than her).

I was explaining our relationship to the kids in the car as we drove home – it would be wonderful if they held onto their childhood friends too.

Megz, the woman who dog-sat for me over Christmas/New Year is part of one of my earliest memories. I recall being sick at preschool and trying to find somewhere to curl up in a miserable ball, but Megz kept following me around, wanting to play.

We’ve drifted in and out of each other’s lives ever since, but there’s an invisible thread that will forever link us together.

It’s wonderful to keep those connections and share so much history.

I like that my sister and I share sections of our life tapestry too. We have totally separate circles, but a few intersect and contain people we both enjoy.

I also like those carefree early weeks of January, when normal routine goes out the window and spontaneous social stuff happens on a “school night.”

That said, it totally freaked me out when I couldn’t reach the eldest on her phone all yesterday. My anxiety levels rose so high that I left work early to check she was OK … and discovered her STILL ASLEEP in bed at 3.30pm!!!!

She’d make a good vampire, that one.

I’m not expecting her to surface any time soon today … better wind that back gradually so she can struggle out of bed at 6.30am when the school year starts again.

Do you have friends from early childhood still in your life?

Song of the day: for some reason an Irish song from my childhood started playing in my head last night, it’s by the Irish Rovers and is called “The Unicorn”. I think old friends are pretty unicorn-ish.

A long time ago, when the Earth was green,
There was more kinds of animals than you’ve ever seen.
And they’d run around free when the Earth was being born,
And the loveliest of ’em all was the unicorn.

There was green alligators and long-necked geese,
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees.
Some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you’re born,
The loveliest of all was the unicorn.

4 thoughts on “The loveliest of all

  1. I still have so many friends have kindy days that’s it is embarrassing. I did grow up on the insular peninsula though, so it seems pretty common around here. In 2017 I plan to make a “new” friend. I think it’s hard in your 40’s. Like Seinfield says “friends group is full, no one is interviewing”.

    • I think my last big friend intake happened when the eldest went to kindy, made so many good local connections. I find time the issue – I only have three nights a week without the kids and I tend to spend most of them with the boyf.

  2. I reckon age is making me nostalgic cos I often find myself diving into old old memories and I do so enjoy it, but NOPE, no old friends for me. I have been too much of a gypsy I am sorry to say. Yours sound lovely.

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