Somebody wrote about his first memory in his blog, and got me thinking. His first memory was a dream, mine is ...
... dunno.
When I start thinking about it, and really try to remember the first thing I remember, I get a lot of flashbacks from our first aparment in
downtown Helsinki. I remember the milk bar across the street where we used to go for ice cream, the one with the shiny bowls. I remember my little rocking chair that served as a cash register, a staircase to an airplane (at a time when they still drove the car next to the plane) or the
Thunderbirds' rocket. I also remember my little plastic Donald Duck and my little, red stool.
The milk bar is long gone, and where I once ate vanilla ice cream (3 scoops if my Mom and Dad let me), now people gor for a quick bite of Chinese food. But the Donald Duck, the rocking chair and the little stool, they're still with me. I have them here.
Waiting for Hilda.
