only in my sleep

I wish I could 'blog' in my sleep, because that's when all the 'words' flow. When I am awake, they just seem to vanish into the ether - but I am going to give it a shot.

To begin with, maybe an account of my earliest memory. They (whoever 'they' are) say that most of your earliest memories contain an element of trauma.

I remember being about two; we were living in Westgate, in Bulawayo, which was a railway housing estate (now demolished). There was a clinic just down the road from where we stayed. After having an immunisation injection, I was quite distressed from the event, and as my mom was carrying me home, I remember vomiting, crying, coughing and spluttering and feeling very poorly. My mom, however, was totally blase about the whole affair and just held me to one side to continue my 'business' and casually continued a conversation with another mom carrying a child.

What do you have to do to get a bit of sympathy in this world ???