In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Our House.”

The first place I can remember living in was an apartment by the name of Ivanhoe. I was four or less, for I was four in the photo at my sister’s fifth birthday party and that was taken in the house we lived in next. I remember my mother in her bedroom with a window looking out to the main road, and my sister and I were going on an aeroplane to my grandparents in Cape Town. We were to fly attended only by the airline staff and my parents were going to drive down a short while later. My father was still enlisted for compulsory military camps so every few months he had to leave and go for a camp. I remember my sister and I playing in our bedroom one evening when he returned. For some reason I can remember playing with a toy iron the night he came back. Why I remember this I have no idea!