12.11.12Posted by Jeanne
On last night's episode of the comedy-drama, Bones (yes, I do watch it!), Dr Sweets tells Booth that his nostalgia for his childhood indicates a deep seated fear of the future. Which bodes rather badly for me, since I, like Booth, harbour this desire to share the best of my youth with my daughter.
I love introducing her to junket and fairy bread and lovely little Yorkshire Puds and lamingtons and Parkin on the 5th November. I love it when she knows the same nursery rhymes as I do, and when she sings the same songs. I like it that she, like I, grew up on Playschool and H. R. Puffenstuff, and that we can belt out the theme songs in delicious unison. I love that she has the same friends as I do - literary ones like Anne and Norah and Jo and Judy and Tom and Huck and Robin and Pooh, but also less highfalutin ones like Skippy the Bush Kangaroo and Paddington and Raggedy Anne and Goldy the bantam. Memories like these make me happy, y'know, and I want Jemimah to have them too.
This weekend was Jemimah's first introduction to the pepperminty caramelly honeycomby delights of Castlemaine Rock, and I am proud to report that she loves this delicious rock as much as I do. It's such a disappointment when she doesn't share my delight.
Castlemaine Rock has been made in our sort-of-local-area for five generations - since 1853. It has been packaged in the same tin since the 1940s, and they make marvellously vintage style holders for paint brushes and textas and the other ephemera of homeschooling and artistic pursuits. In fact, you can justify eating Castlemaine Rock on purely aesthetic grounds.
Certainly, Dr Lance Sweets' credentials are impeccable. He is both psychologist for the FBI as well as a psychoanalyst for the team at the Jeffersonian after all, so no doubt his appraisal of Booth's character is spot on. Which means I am clearly really, really worried about the future. Obviously I fail to distinguish between reality and the fantasy that is television, at any rate. Oh well. I shall regress into my past and munch on Castlemaine Rock and make bad jokes about this post and Dr Sweets' name and sing the words of old telly ads and be perfectly happy. Jemimah will be able to join me when she comes to visit.
Incidentally, I was always sorry that one of my favourite telly ads was for alcohol - Starwine, to be exact- and therefore a little inappropriate to teach my daughter. I was delighted recently to discover that the commercial was taken from this lovely old song, which has lyrics that I can teach to my daughter with impunity. And so I shall. Whatever Sweets says about me.
Do you remember the ad, Aussie friends? Did you drink Starwine? Do you like remembering your childhood? Are you clearly afraid of the future too? Came talk to me while I can still understand. I am not afraid.