Not being the proud ownerof a digital camera...I have to resort to older piccies...this one is a favourite... I am on the left holding my golliwog (yeass you could call it a golliwog in the 1950's) and his name was Jacky Jacky after an aboriginal tracker from early colonial days...for heavens sake I did not even know what a golliwog was.....my sister next to me...on my left who is now mrs Plastic Fantastic (thanks CS for the title) has some sort of a dollie and I can never recall its name..and my big bruiser of a sister next left has her dollie called Henrietta...

The irony being that as years passed on, I was handed on both those pair of oh so glamerous shorts they had on...as wth all the dresses and other...

And I out grew the pair of them, Mrs Plastic now being the blonde (oh sure) and having thin shanks like old diddies do...to be proud of...and she matches all her accessories soooo well...not like me! And I outgrew the big brusier who shrunk as she grew older... but she's nice so thats okay!

Its where we are standing that really shocks me sometimes...how many times did I sit with my Dad on those back steps as the sun sank into the west and strobed our yard with beams of light? I recall just leaning against him and he smelt of tobacco and the dirt of his work which I never found offensive. Actually I liked that smell. The steps are not long gone...the house moved on to somewhere...maybe one day I will find out where... but as a child till I was about 18 it all felt so solid and permanent... and I was not sad when it went or when Mum moved out of it with our two younger sisters, its time was done and it felt like that...