Saturday, April 9, 2011

Day 550


Did somebody mention figs?

When somebody mentions figs I think of weeping willows, dolly pyjamas, Nulax and my childhood backyard.

I also think of FIGJAM baby, FIGJAM.

When I was a kid we lived in a little house on a big suburban block of a rural NSW town. The backyard seemed to go forever and right up in the far right hand corner was a fig tree right next to a big weeping willow. That willow tree and fig created a great "tunnel" like canopy in which to play.  You couldn't tell where the willow ended and the fig began.  I remember that my cousin and I were playing up there once in our matching brand new pink dolly pyjamas. She needed to go to the toilet so I encouraged her to squat under the tree. No point wasting valuable play time on going indoors when the canopy provided great privacy. So she pee'd under the tree but soiled her brand new PJs in the process.  She started screaming and crying and yelling at me for making her do it.  Play time ended.

The tree would produce lots of figs every year and I quite liked them.  Loved them in fact. Until I discovered Nulax at uni which was a natural organic fruit laxative predominantly made up of fig. I overdosed on the stuff and ended up quite unwell.  The smell of Nulax, and therefore fig, has made me heave ever since.

Yep, that's what I think of when I hear the word fig.  All of that races through my mind.

Oh, so nobody actually mentioned figs?

Huh. Oh well then, I've mentioned them.


How incredibly random ...


  1. A lady up the road from me, and lovely old English lady sells figs (and makes fabulous figjam by the way) we stop in some days when we see the chalkboard sign hanging out. $2 for 12 figs, bargain.


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