Back then, we lived as New Victorians.
We knew what dado rails were, and cherished
cornices. We stripped the floors back to the
lovely wood and, laughing scornfully, ripped out
the 60s hearth to make room for a vast
cast iron one.
And when we’d bathed the children, in our
roll-top tub, and put them in their wooden beds
(to dream, we hoped, of hoops and spinning-tops),
we’d flick the screw-top on an Aussie red,
and turn the heating up a notch, then settle down
to watch TV.