Posted on 4 March 2015


This is part of a series of memories I’m recording. There’s no pattern or purpose, but it’s my blog so here they are.


One day when I was four or five I was at some sort of party. The party wasn’t to do with me, so I don’t remember what it was about. Probably someone’s twenty-first or thirtieth.

It was in an unfamiliar place, which at that point is all places except my parents’ property; possibly a church hall or something. I remember a weatherboard building on stilts with steps leading to doors on the front and side. I remember a large gum tree out the side. The grass was patchy and the air was warm and dry.

Most of the people I lived with went. I was grumpy about something, probably just that I had to leave the commune and interact with people other than my family.

There were other kids there playing outside but I didn’t want to play with them. The parents were busy so Aunty Sylvie took me outside. She cajoled me out of my snit by making gentle fun of my moodiness and teaching me a song.

Nobody likes me
Everybody hates me
I think I’ll go and eat worms.

Long ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones
See how they wriggle and squirm.

I’ll bite off their heads, and suck out their guts
And throw the skins away.

Nobody knows how fat I’ll grow
On worms three times a day.