When I was little, we used to visit my Great Uncle Ken. He is great, and he is also my Nanna's brother. In his pantry, he used to have a crate of soft drinks. Maybe he still does. They were the kind that they deliver to your house and leave on the doorstep, you know those? (I never saw them being delivered, mind you, but they were always there.) Anyway, they were NEVER kept in the fridge. Always in the pantry. When you sipped it, it was warm, but it was still nice.
About that sipping. We would decide what flavour would be best from the pineapple and the lime and the orange and the cola and take the bottle to the laminex table to open it. There was lino underfoot. We could see through the lacy kitchen curtain out onto the driveway where Ken parked his old white panel van. There was a roast in the oven and peas cooking for a rather long time on the top of the stove. But back to the drinks. Usually you needed a teatowel over the top to get the lid off, usually it needed to be damp. So we did that. Then we would slide the door of the dresser open and take out a glass, one of those bumpy, frosted ones, and pour a drink for ourselves. Or Nan would do it for us. The dresser would always rattle a bit menacingly, as though something was going to fall out, but nothing ever did.
I liked Creamy Soda the best. It was so sweet and such a lovely golden colour. We'd have a biscuit then, probably an orange creme or a Monte Carlo. And then we'd go and get a chocolate from Uncle Ken too, just for good measure. Nice. They were always Cadbury's Milk Tray. I liked the runny raspberry one or the hazelnut swirl one. But I always had to look at the pictures on the box, just to make sure there wasn't some really good new filling (apart from the ones my teeth were destined for). The cricket was on the telly and Dennis Lillee was bowling. There were Christmas Ornaments with TicTac's inside them. There was a slobbery jumpy dog. And there was Aunty Phyllis dozing in her room on a floral bedspread. Sometimes we'd go into the front room and play the pianola. Nice.
xx Pip
