Welcome

As I get older I realize how much things have changed.

Before I reach a point where my mind fades I want to be able to record my memories of things past and create a place where young people can learn and old people can remember.

In 1997 I wrote this poem which is a good place to start.

TRANSITIONS

In my youth our outhouse was sewered.

The one that I have now is not

But at least this one's on the inside

And it's better at night than the pot.

My Mum had a copper and wringer,

A prop held the clothes off the ground

But I've got a "Hill's" in my garden

And the wind makes the clothes spin around.

Our old phone was black and two-handed.

The mouth-piece and ear-piece weren't one

But now, while I'm doing the shopping,

I can dial who I want with my thumb.

No freezer or fridge in my childhood,

The ice man delivered weekly.

As he chipped off the corners to fit it

We sucked on the pieces with glee.

Everything then was delivered.

It costs extra to do that today

And with all our time-saving devices

We wonder why time slips away.

If my Grandma could see all the changes

She'd probably turn in her grave.

With my stereo TV and 8 meg PC

I stumble towards the "New Age".

Walking to school

Not everyone had a car. It wasn't all that necessary as the suburbs weren't as widespread as they are now and public transport was readily available.

But there was no bus route directly to my primary school in the 1950's so it meant a walk of about 1.5 kms (about 1 mile). Hail, rain or shine. Some afternoons so hot that you could almost feel your shoes melting on the asphalt footpath. It seemed a long way home on a hot afternoon with a loaded schoolbag. Strangely, I don't remember as clearly going to school on wet days. I do remember that there was always a bowl of steaming home-made soup waiting for me when I arrived home on a cold day.

As soon as we were old enough (probably about 6) we would walk with our friends and not our Mums. There was little, if any, 'stranger danger". We even took shortcuts through back laneways. The main risk was in crossing main roads but, as there was little traffic, it was not a major problem.

We would often take a shortcut across the park near my home even though I risked the occasional magpie swoop. Swallows would often dart around us as we walked, coming so close that we were sure that they would collide with our legs. But they never did.

As we got older we were able to ride our bikes. I came around a corner one morning at "warp speed" as I was running late and nearly collided with the rubbish truck. I still hear the words of the driver as he called "Look out.! Woman driver." For all I know he may have been the first to use that term.