Last night my mom, dad, sister and I went through all them (13 carousels of) slides taken in Australia when we lived there in 1982. Among the obligatory pictures of children at the beach, whitewashed buildings, music posters, and of wineries are:
- my Dad posing proudly with his pot plants, in a horrible speedo
- camping on the side of the highway on the Nullarboor (i.e. WE DROVE ACROSS THE DESERT)
- my Dad on the cliff at the Bight (i.e. AT THE EDGE OF THE CONTINENT)
- various beautiful swampy rivers, poisonous spiders and goannas up trees
It's pretty much a miracle that none of us were eaten by sharks or crocodiles, bitten by spiders or snakes or lizards, and jesus, didn't break down and die by the side of the road.
The Holden got its engine replaced twice, my Dad went spear fishing at the Barrier Reef, and my poor Mom had two kids under 5 who wore clothing only infrequently due to the heat.
I can say, though, that I haven't changed much, and I looked adorable with sun-bleached blonde hair.