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Blogging Challenge - day 2 - Memories

4/6/2016

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I know, I know, I missed a day. I don't care. This challenge isn't the boss of me. I got home from work yesterday evening to find Kyle cleaning the house in a fugue state, so I joined in, and that kind of ate up the rest of the night. So no blogging. But today, blogging! And today's prompt is your earliest memory. Cue music.
This is hard, actually. I'm pretty sure some of the things we think are real memories, our brain has invented, and I'm sure this is probably especially true when we look back to our childhood. I would say my earliest memory is of being in a car with our dog, Meg. I don't know where we were living or how old I was, or any salient details. But I know we had a dog called Meg, and I know she didn't move with us to our next house (possibly because it was overseas?). I know this because my parents have told me. So do I really remember Meg, or has my brain just supplied some false details? Tricksy brain.

My earliest memories that I feel confident about saying "yes, that definitely happened" are from our time living in Cyprus. I guess I was around five or six. I remember having a yellow sun dress with tassles. I remember great, noisy, stinky pelicans everywhere, stealing food from your plate. I remember finding lizards in wardrobes, I remember huge, crushing waves sweeping us out of dinghies at Curium beach, and I remember sand so hot you couldn't walk barefoot on it. I have very vivid memories of us finding a snake in the back garden one day, and Mum keeping us kids inside the house until an old man came and killed it. As a snake-keeping adult, that memory rests very uneasily with me now. 


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I mean, look at this idiot. This is my king snake, Remic, trying to eat a stone skull. He's literally only a danger to himself.

Still, I have no idea what kind of snake that was back in Cyprus all those years ago, so I suppose it could have been deadly (unlikely, but this was a long time ago so there's no point worrying about it now).

Anyway, those are my earliest definite memories, and we have extensive photo albums to prove it all really happened. Take that, evil, memory-faking brain.
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