Unexplained nostaliga

We don't remember life as young child - nobody does - we don't recall the mundane days from birth we spent crawling around, crying and getting to grips with the world around us. Instead, it's all a learning curve of mixed emotions and recurrent mistakes. Despite this, sometimes I get struck with waves of nostalgia from no where, which take me back to my younger years. 

Prominently, I remember the soft tune of 'Danny Boy' with an image of a blonde haired boy stood at the end of a dual carridgeway roundabout at night. I remember the lights in the sun roof passing by as I was endlessly happy to be in the car (and not in the dark) with my mum and my auntie avril. I remember the drowsy illustrations of King BarBar and his hot air balloon towering over his small, housey kingdown which was embedded in the cliffs. I remember the woody smell of the library in Henley - the children's section which I would sit and look at pictures, never at words. I remember a field of red poppies over a hill in year two and the staple gun pinning the wavy boarders onto the class notice boards. I remember auntie and uncles Sheffield home with a tumbling field and a sheep dog outside. I remember ending swimming classes with a belly hungry for Nestle Crunch bars and UmBongo. I remember driving through Italian cities, red lipstick and high leather boots - the yearning for an older life - for make up and luxury goods. I remember Badgers, the brown paper lunch bags and the small, puzzle room. I remember a pink flannel pillow in the car on the way to the airport each year. I remember a ball pit in a sofa shop, looking out through the double door fire exit at the countryside in the snow. I remember Mrs Leonard and making chocolate and marshmallow bread in a food technology lesson. I remember Mama Mia in the back of Antonio's speed boat - I remember the Villa and sweet, custard filled croissants. I remember Santa Maria al Banio and My Little Pony tapes residing there, the whirlpool I almost went under in. I remember the smell of the helmet hut at the stables Adriana used to ride in. I remember the rock in my stomach after finding a newt in a terra-cotta vase (post jurassic park viewing). I remember the view out of mum's bed in the morning - looking out the patio doors at the huge conifer trees in the 7am sunshine. I remember picking pine cones in the heat down the road from the villa in Porto Cesareo. I remember Alaska the park in Italy with thousands of rides and swing sets that, in my memory, is probably 200 times larger than it is in real life. I remember marble run and the swing we used to collect 'barley' in. I remember the window from the master bedroom of Dream Doll House- changing seasons and sunshine tinted greenery outdoors. I remember disney characters hand drawn onto bedroom walls. I remember standing outside mrs goulding's with a fluffy plant and an image of a boy in a small wooden boat sailing across the big ocean under a silver starry sky. Somewhere inbetween Where The Wild Things Are and The Owl and The Pussycat. 


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