Tag: memories

Museum Trip


I went to the museum on Tuesday, as I said a couple of posts ago. Here is my favourite couple of pictures. I love the red flying horse. I think it is a symbol for a petrol company or something, but it is too beautiful to be that. I think my Uncle Jack used to have a petrol station with the flying horse symbol too, so that could be another reason why I have such a fond feeling about it.

There was also this cute model ‘Mr Whippy’. How real does this photo look though? But I swear the model is quite small.

I also loved the Windmills

Gado Gado

When I was a kid, I would have wonderful holidays with my Auntie Angela and Uncle Jack in Drouin East. They had 9 kids, although probably less for most of my memories as I was the same age as their eldest child. They were my godparents and were the epitome of godparents as I adored them and loved being in their company.
Uncle Jack was Dutch and had spent his childhood in Indonesia during the war and Angela had lots of exotic (to us) foods as a result of these influences.
I have a memory of a special meal we had of Gado Gado with Kerupuk or (crook cooks) as we called them. The large table was laden with this delicious food and we sat around the deep fryer counting as the hard colorful peices rose out into crunchy prawn crackers, as I know them now.
Last night for the first time, I made Gado Gado. We had a special visitor coming who was vegetarian, and Andy spent a lot of time in Indonesia when he was younger, so I felt it was appropriate. It was great and brought back wonderful memories for me also. I was quite relieved that he recognised it as I put it together mostly from memory.
I was amazed that I remembered and recognised all the ingredients when I went to the supermarket to find the parts. As it drew closer to putting it together I remembered the Internet and looked up the recipe and verified my memory. I was quite pleased by the whole experience.
I didn’t use potato and substituted snow peas for beans but it was very yummy. For desert I resorted to nana’s Jam Roly Poly, which I will save for another day.

My how Fiat’s have Changed

The first car I bought for myself was a red Fiat 850
much against my father’s wishes. From the moment we entered the car yard he tried to steer me away from the ‘red sports car’ as pictured above. It was a bargain I thought. He totally disagreed. I’m sad to say he was totally right about everything. The car was a huge expense and whilst I have fond memories of it, it really was not an ideal choice for me.