My three siblings and I grew up in the African bushveld of Zambia and what was formerly known as the North Eastern Transvaal. Scorpions, baboon spiders, rain spiders, earwigs, Mopani worms, and snakes all formed a rather normal part of our daily lives. Thanks to Dad’s numerous hunting trips, our staple diet was frequently game biltong—yummy! Friends found our house creepy with its enormous variety of stuffed creatures, ranging from birds of many species to small animals, leguaans, crocodiles, and snakes (sometimes alive, but not of the pet variety).
Our family would often sit, fascinated and entertained, as we listened intently to the stories our father would tell with pride as he recalled fond memories.
The older we became, the more we enjoyed his humorous tales of the bush, eagerly grabbing every opportunity to send dear old Dad down memory lane again, even though we’d walked this same path many times before.
“Tell us again, Dad. Tell us the one about....”