Onion King

My Grandfather has an entry in the Australian Dictionary of Biography. My mother contributed some of the information.

Just thought I'd let you know, in case you thought I came from peasant farming stock. You'd be right. "Onion King"? Left-wing Peasant Royalty!

I recollect not being allowed in to see Grandad as he was unwell, except one time. As far as I recollect he was almost always in bed. I have one memory of him walking, but that may be from a photograph - grey suit, hat, walking stick. He had lost his great-toe to diabetes. Once he showed us kids his truncated foot. I was three or four years old. I didn't touch it. But merely looking at a foot with no big-toe was quite traumatising enough, as you can imagine. That would have been the year he died.

(I used to live with my gradparents until my widowed mother moved us to Geelong when I was about three. So I had a bit of a farm-upbringing. Watching Grandma cut the head off a chicken or drown kittens in a hessian sack in a bucket of water was of course not traumatising in the least.)

But, hence my fear of open-toed sandals and shopping trolleys - their attempt to occupy the same space and time resulted in another limping E@L all this week.



Posted by: expat@large on Jun 11, 06 | 10:39 pm | Profile


Was the said shopping trolley moving in a manner directed by you, or by a third party?

Posted by: Smootie on Jun 12, 06 | 12:10 pm

Both trolley and toes were directed by me but with shopping trolleys good manners are just not enough.

Posted by: expat@large on Jun 12, 06 | 1:06 pm


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