
Ah, what a cute bunch of little tykes; performing their daily patrol of the family's borderland. While the youngest male of the group is usually armed with a BFG, mistake not the deadly intent lurking behind the eyes of the females, aggravated attacks made with ceramic doll's heads accounted for at least twelve percent of deaths in Northern Queensland in the early thirties/forties.
Woe betide the unwary traveller. All questions would be greeted with the cooly perfunctory answer of "You can't get there from here", rapidly followed by a barrage of rifleshot and stainless steel clothes pegs.
My mother Lorraine, Eleanor, Cliff with Rifle and Dianne - according to the accompanying notes.