'When I was a kid, Warlpiri people were an idea, a story, a mythology that hung on the walls and in the air around the dinner table when my dad would talk about his childhood at Yuendumu. He was kindergarten age when he ran inside the mission house, forgetting to pull his shoes on at the door as per my grandmother's rules, and announced, 'We caught a lizard, mummy, and we ate it. Don't worry, Charlie picked the poos out.' Darling anecdotes like this pepper my grandmother's mission diaries. In one entry, my dad as a toddler narrates an imaginary trip to Alice Springs: 'T'rific dust ... I got bogged ... shot a kangaroo with my 303.'' (Introduction)