Saturday 14 November 2015

My Earliest Childhood Memory by Lilliana Rose

Isn’t a happy memory.

My first memory of life is when my grandma died.

I was four. Oblivious to what was really going on I was excited since I got to go on a plane the first time with my mum.

Oddly, I don’t remember the plane trip. I do remember getting off of the plane, running across the tar mat after mum, falling behind, and dropping my miniature toy sewing machine, which I loved. The sewing machine had a moving needle, so when I clicked on the button it would move up and down. I would spend hours pretending to make clothes for my doll, Angela. Through this toy, my imagination was fed.

Scared because it was dark, and from the noise of the plane, I yelled at mum to stop and wait. She, stressed about trying to see her mum before she died, who was also pregnant, yelled back at me to hurry up. While frightened, I had to run back, all of three steps, but they were big ones for my four year old legs, and pick up my favourite toy. This sewing machine meant the world to me.

What is significant about this time is that it’s when my own life began, because it’s when I started to remember things. Memories help make your life, shape who you are, and make the internal stories we hold close to our hearts. My first childhood memory is off my grandma dying, but it also reminds me of what else was happening at that time. I was growing up. I was starting to remember things that were happening to me. I was learning to be creative. I had a strong imagination, which I was actively using.

I have the toy sewing machine today, it fits in the palm of my hand, and the needle still works. And I continue to create, just now it’s with stories instead of make believe clothes for my doll. While this memory isn’t the happiest, it’s one I remember a lot, and has shaped my creativity, always reminding me that my grandma has stayed with me.

Lilliana is a creative writer and poet. She grew up on a farm in Australia but has swapped her work boots for heels and now lives a city lifestyle. She enjoys using memories of her life on the farm as inspiration for her stories. Check out more of her work at these sites: website, blog, Goodreads, Facebook or Twitter.



Sent to the country to visit rural clients accountant Blaise Johns doesn’t know what to do when he meets a mob of sheep on the road. He accidently runs over one of Dusty Miller’s ewes and his cool crisp competitive demeanour is dented as he tries to figure out how to make amends with a woman who is intent on busting his balls. Then there’s the competition, Aaron, who isn’t going to be pushed aside. As the out-of-towner will Blaise step up to country life for Dusty?

Dusty is furious at Blaise, but the man won’t go away and leave her to run her farm. A sassy self-sufficient young woman, Dusty struggles to let Blaise who is clueless about the life she lives, in to her heart. 

When two worlds, country and city come together, an explosion of differences rocks the foundation of two peoples lives, forcing them to face the future in unplanned ways, and to give each other another chance.
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5 comments:

  1. Thank you so much for being my guest! It's great to have you here.

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    1. You're welcome Louise :) I enjoyed writing the post. :)

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  2. Lovely memories. I remember visiting my grandparents farms in Ireland when I was small. Great book Loved Dusty and Blaise's story.

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    1. Thanks for stopping by, Maggie!

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    2. That would have been an amazing trip Maggie :)
      I'm glad you loved the story between Dusty and Blaise :) xo

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