Where I used to live

I had the chance recently to pass one of my childhood homes. I was out on my grandfathers boat and we moared up near by so me and Ellie went for a visit.

Its strange, its all alien to me.

Its a reflection of how memory works, when you access a memory, you get the bit you want out, and its imperfect, so you try and fill in the little details, lots of which is just your imagination guessing. Then your brain stores this new memory over the old one, This repeats every time you think back and recall a memory, slowly changing it from memory to dream. Except you believe in it, it is real.

So this is the house I lived int, and its only just resembles the house my mind grew up in. Some of it is that I was a child then, and I saw things differently, some of it of course is the change that happens with time.

I think I spend the years of 6 to around 9 there, I am not 100% sure. When I arrived I was year 2 and when I left I was in year 5 ( I think ).

This is house that my gran says she fist met me at. She says she saw me this skinny little boy walking down the road with a dog on a bit of string, with the cat following behind.

My dogs were Megan the lazy bones obsessed with rich tea biscuits, and Zeus the German Shepard, would break out of his shed to wait for me at the end of the lane.

This is were I just jump from the hay bales in the barn down the road. I would ride my bike around the tiny little nine house village.

I would hide in the fields of crops, and make little forts in the clearings, I would be awoken at 5am by the sound of combine harvesters.

Where I used to sneak into Stanford hall and watch the hovercraft racing, and St John Ambulance used to keep an eye on this little boy, hoping over the fence and hiding in the trees to watch.


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