FOND MEMORIES

This morning, on my walk to a neighbouring town, Broad Campden, 1 3/4 miles down the road I was reminded of Pokolbin, the vineyard district of the Hunter Valley in New South Wales. In all my time I lived in Singleton, only a 15 minute drive away, I really didn't get to see very much of its beautiful landscape. I guess babies, breastfeeding and later, as they grow into children, tends to deter you from partaking in wine tasting events, which usually end up smashings, and the like. And I wasn't really interested in admiring and appreciating the land back then. Of course I do have many fond memories of occasions in the vineyards, my proposal from Dave being one. That's another story though. Here, I walked past a big, old, stone house and the sign out the front says "Malt House, A Country Guesthouse" and I recalled a time that brought a smile to my face followed with a giggle. A group of us had rented, for the weekend, a huge guesthouse in Pokolbin, just like the Malt House. We'd all pooled our money in and someone did a group shop of food that would feed us heartily for our stay. Copious amounts of alcohol were purchased and brought along. There were lines of coke snorted (I didn't do this) and joints smoked freely (I certainly did do this). I think we had prepared for this event with an afternoon of rolling spliffs at my place or maybe that was for another event (lol). Those days were still somewhat complicated at times but a different kind of complication. I think as we grow older, and some say wiser, we tend to over complicate matters rather than being young and free as we once were. Dave and I were still kinda new at being a couple therefore I'd already done the stupid young marriage thing but was rewarded with Jason as the outcome of that so I had to be responsible and motherly every second weekend. Perhaps that's why on every other weekend I was wild and reckless? I was still in my early 20's justifiably. My two accomplices, whom I shall refer to as J & J, and I were the smokers in the gang. Cigarettes that is which also meant that we were the main tokers also. I don't remember all the intricate details other than us being as stoned as they come, laughing our heads off, and somehow me being caught sitting in front of the fridge, with the door open, consumed with the munchies, ripping the skin off the barbecued chook and eating it. J & J, looking for me, busted me and we all rolled around the floor laughing before they too joined me in the chicken munching. We had some of the best times together. I fondly refer to those days as some of the best days of my life. Melancholy? A little! We all have these fond memories. Perhaps not the pot smoking, drug induced coma ones but we have something. Sometimes though, sadly, they seem to get buried under all of the shit and when the shit gets scraped away we're left with the better days that make us who we are today.