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November 22, 2008
The cherry tree still stood in the driveway, bearing the scar of a 15 year old version of me, trying to do a three point turn in the Falcon 500.

The car, in a shed at my brotherís, bears the same scar.

If my mother was still alive, she would still happily defend me.

"It wasn't his fault' she had told my dad, "You wouldn't take him for a driving lesson."

"Where is the car now?" my father asked on the phone.

Mum smiled at me "Still up the bloody tree!"

We shared the same humor, but not with dad.