There is a definite food and tea theme to my posts. Today’s photo is of a cheese straw jar as the contents of which I am eating for brain power ahead of today’s chapter. I have to leave for work in two and a half hours so I need to focus again today and prove I really can be productive on more than just one day, yesterday being a day of all round over-achievement.
I now only have three more chapters to write to complete elements of my first ten years. Today, chapter 8, I’m going to write about Brighton, one of the few places I am stretching “objects” to include and somewhere I still visit regularly.
I have visited Brighton more times than I could ever count and it would have been one of the first beaches I ever went to as a child. I think also that the first proper memory I have is from Brighton, aged 9, when I had what I didn’t then know was osteomyelitis (a nasty bone infection, which I had in my heel) and I remember refusing to go to hospital until after my birthday and after, most pertinently, my long-awaited 10th birthday trip to Brighton Dophinarium and beach with my parents and two or three friends; the memory is of taking ages, largely due to the extreme pain, to hobble to a suitable picnic spot on the pebbles. That’s it. I know that memory isn’t from a photo or from being told about it, it’s just a miniscule memory that I know is mine. It’s a shame the bit I definitely remember is how difficult it was to walk on the pebbles though.