Yes this is the house I grew up in, the high school days. My sister nick named it the “dirty house” which I never could see it as dirty only a poor house. The house was just off a busy main road slightly lower than the road, on a hill. It was a normal looking house front, door in the middle, with windows either side of the door, the kind of one you see in kids stories. A little garden at the front. Off to the left as you stand facing the front door was a big tree and a concrete hill under the tree, this is an important spot my foster mum and we used to sit at night until dad, who would be drunk, stopped abusing my foster mum and he fell asleep.
Then about 2am we would sneak in and go to sleep even on school nights. Okay, open the front door take a marble put it on the floor and watch it roll to the back of the house, we did this, funny. To the left was the lounge room, to the right was foster mums and dads bedroom, there was a wall dividing lounge room and dinning room on left and mine and my sisters bedroom on the right, another diving wall with an open window frame to the kitchen which was also on the left and on the right a bathroom and laundry combined. The back door was inline with the front door, back step made out of cement with a path leading to our outside dunny. There must have been another bedroom because there were 4 kids but I’m not sure if there was, I am feeling 3 girls in one room and brother was outside, cannot remember. my bedroom had bunk beds I was on the bottom and the door was one of those sliding caravan doors with the magnet to close. The laundry/bathroom had at bath with shower head over bath, a laundry sink which we also did the dishes and cloths in. we had at first, one of those old washing machines that had a winger to squizzed the water out of the cloths then later got a normal washing machine. Our door for that room was a shower curtain, it was not very private. A lot happened in this house.Tags: Abuse, Alcohol, Family, History, Home