It does not take long for those brothers and sisters, which were told by mum to look after you in your early school days, to get distracted and follow their own individual pleasures and pursuits. Well, so it was for me walking home from Eagle Junction State School in grade 2. I was left to do it for myself, most of the time. No worries, was my attitude. Now the walk home would take up to 30 minutes, especially as it was only being powered by those trainer wheel type legs. I would often walk with my friend David and every so often we would get caught in a monsoonal downpour. There was no shelter no where to hide no way to stop from being drenched to the core. No worries, was my attitude. Now, our house at Lissen Grove had an intersecting street leading straight up a very steep hill to where David’s rich family lived in a mansion. His place included tennis courts, maids, gardens and bicycles. So obviously David’s bike made him my very best and special friend. I would stay there after school and play on all his rich type toys. One day, as I left his house I was hit by one of those Brisbane afternoon downpours. In three seconds, I was soaked. No worries was my attitude, as I trudged off home and down the hill. As I got to the steepest part of the decent, I noticed that the exposed drain was cascading like water cannoning from an overflowing dam wall. Now I don’t recommend this for all 7 year olds but I soon discovered that if you sat in this pressurized water and held on to the bottom of your school shorts tightly and with you bag on your back, that the force would propel you all the way home to the bottom of the hill which it did. I finally drag my soaking cloths and school bag combo up the back stairs at home, only to be greeted at the door by Oh, Sambo!. Mum had me out of those cloths before I could tell her of my new pressurized water transport delivery system. I was ushered off towards the sound of that hot running bath, but as I passed the kitchen I saw my mum do an amazing thing she put my waterlogged shoes in the oven under the evening roast. So there you go, no one to this day has been able to identify that special Jamie Oliver aroma bound up in those wonderful roasts Well, until now that is!
