A blue desk, with a flip up lid, painted red in a later life, sitting there looking out through warbled glass.
The smell of a warm wet dog from the back of the car.
Sitting at the top of the stairs whilst my parents and friends talked and laughed late into the night.
My blanket, my panda, my blue horse.
The taste of dog biscuits.
Action Man adventures in the back garden.
The chaos of the primary school playground.
Camping trips and caravans.
The box of old lego at my Gran and Grandpas house.
The click clack of knitting needles, and the rustle of a newspaper.
Walking the nearby woods, chasing the dog.
White bread, green apple slices, butter and sugar; a sandwich for when you weren’t well.
My sister arriving home, swaddled in white cotton.
Cycling home, up the driveway, round the side of the garage, one thump of a front wheel to knock the back gate open.
My old model railroad, roads and grass painted on plywood.
The cupboard under the stairs.
Setting up Hot Wheels running track down both flights of stairs from the top of the house to the bottom.
Visits from family and friends, best behaviours and a smell of polish.
Summer barbeques, juicy slices of melon and marshmallows toasted on sticks.
Winter nights, a crackling fire, roasted chestnuts.
These are the things I chose to remember about my childhood.
All of this and so much more.
All of this to a soundtrack of happiness and laughter.
All of this with a heart full of love.