And this isn’t all of them.
‘Oh you’re her father’s girl!’ people always said while I was growing up. My dad grew up in a country town and was one of ten, 8 boys and 2 girls. He and his brothers played a lot of footy, took a lot of girls to the local dances (he met Mum at around this time) – and the band of brothers learnt the ways of the bottle pretty early on. There are many parts of me that are Dad and they’re not all liquid-related – but let’s just say there’s a tradition to uphold and an annual trip back to Australia requires some catching up. Thankfully I’ve acquired a bit of Mum in me too in the last few years, but hey, it is Summer and it is once a year.
So yes, I think I am still officially Dad’s girl.
My delicious journey’s list will follow!