I remember the giant mural of a forest on one wall of the living room.
I remember the white Saarinen-lookalike tulip-shaped dining table and chairs.
I remember the shadows playing on the bedroom wall at night, after lights out.
I remember being so small I could curl up inside the seat of the white pastille chair and hide there.
I remember climbing up the wooden screen built between the pillars that support the car porch shelter and peering into the plantar boxes there.
I remember the rambutan tree growing from the neighbour's house abutting the back of our house, reaching over the fence into our space. And I remember eating the rambutans from that tree.
I remember riding the bicycle down the sloping driveway, gathering speed as I zoomed out onto the road right outside the house.
I remember losing one-and-a-half front teeth when I lost my balance on my brother's bicycle and fell face first onto road (that, and a whole lot of blood). I remember Po-po soothing my tears away.
I remember being sent to crawl into the drains outside the house to pick up the shuttlecock that had gone astray in a game of badminton.
I remember being pushed around the car porch whilst sitting on one of those plastic trays they pack Christmas hamper goodies in (makeshift go-kart!).
I remember the little yellow creeper flowers that grew on the chain-link fence that stretched down the driveway.
I remember clinging on as the gate was swung open and close (it took so little to amuse us then!).
I remember feeding milk to the stray cat that used to come round every morning, mewing piteously (so I imagined) at the gate.
I remember climbing onto the dining chair to look on top of the fridge for my school badge.
I remember being so sleepy one day as I walked down the stairs, I slipped and fell the last few steps.
This house was bought the year I was born.
