by Sandra SmithNambour grandmother Dolly Johnson grew up without a car, a television or a computer. She climbed the huge old Moreton Bay figs at the end of her street, and played amongst the bunya nut trees. When it rained, she’d go mushrooming in nearby paddocks with her dad. In summer, Dolly swam in a local waterhole and played on the river’s grassy banks with her friends. The bigger boys paddled canoes made from sheets of cast iron and scraps of wood.
Read more
