Childhood, for me at least consisted of games, books, imagination, cubby houses, animals and the seaside. My father was the park ranger of Freycinet National Park on the east coast of Tasmania and so growing up was done in and amongst glorious landscapes, where I had the whole national park as my playground. I suppose because we were a little isolated, much of my time was spent playing with my sisters, but a whole lot of it was spent reading books. I remember being so excited to discover the school library, and realising that I was allowed to borrow all these books, take them home for a week or two and then get more! It was heaven to my six year old mind. Monsters and fairies, witches and wizards - they were all my companions. And so now, when I think of childhood, I remember the amazing time I had, how privileged I was to be blessed with an imagination and how lucky I was to have had parents who encouraged it!
I'm thinking these one-eyed monsters might be resurrected at some point as a kids range of cards or wrapping paper. Or perhaps I might, one day, create a small children's book to give a new bubba? Maybe these could be the characters... Oh the possibilities.