My Dad parted with our childhood totem tennis set on the weekend.
It now lives breathing a new, but not unfamiliar, life in my backyard.
I had forgotten he even had it. In fact I had almost forgotten it even existed.
But now I've laid eyes on it again the memories have tumbled back home.
Australian summers of the 70's.
Barefoot and dodging bindii's in my Dad's backyard.
My big brother and I.
Terry towelling hats, riding bikes, making jumps, being jumped over! (the compulsory role of the younger sister isn't it)
And whacking that totem tennis ball.
It's been a long time.
Things have changed.
But let me tell you when I held those bats in my hands again the other day...and ahem each day since...that whacking came straight back to me. Except maybe this time harder, stronger and if it's possible, more fun.
Hmm Mama could possibly match that beloved older brother who used to spin that ball round and round that totem coil not allowing his little sister to have her turn...joyfully living in his own world of whacking. How about it bro? Rematch time?
All hands here have had a go at this new, old, toy.
It's even been used in dispute resolution with a challenge having been set to the Mister. It never happened but it all ended in giggles and a few hours of good natured "talking it up".
A good tool to remember.
So even though it's cold here now, it's standing out there again. Perhaps in training for Summer.
I wonder if it will survive my two little one's antics?
I wonder if they will grow up and remember the days of totem tennis where one outhit the other or where one needed to jump the bmx over the other....
Who knows but for now we can aim for that, except maybe with the occasional.....
"Stand back kids...Mama's going to whack this one!"