[Elaine46]

When I think of my childhood, the most joy I get , is thinking of the norm.
A typical afternoon. The carefree joy of just being a kid and playing with my friends.
It might be cliche….. but its true , life was simpler and safe back then.
Let me take you back to the late 1950s.

Coming home after school, opening the front door and being hit with the aroma of fresh baked cupcakes and treats, dumping my schoolbag and grabbing a cupcake and racing out the back door before mum caught us.
All us kids from the neighbourhood would then play games out on the street ( hopscotch, countries and rounders ) until the sun went down and we would start to hear our mothers call dinner time.

 

[Liag]

Sitting around the fireplace with family and friends in our ski lodge in Perisher Valley, in the days when, if you wanted to ski down a hill, you had to climb it first

 

[Ivory]

I experienced what could be best described as an impoverished childhood. We relied on the veggie patch for our vegetable intake and excess vegetables were preserved. Protein collection was one of my jobs, although it never felt like doing jobs. We set rabbit traps, catching both rabbits and hares, put out yabbie traps in the church dam and went mushrooming, with the best picking ground being the local catholic cemetery. If we saw Wally, the local grave digger come into the cemetery we got in quick, didn’t want anyone trampling the mushrooms! Cleaning the rabbits and hares was a job that I really didn’t want to do but I could earn threepence per skin which was an amazing windfall as we received no pocket money.

It was quite a demanding period of time but I learnt a lot, and when we weren’t doing chores we were up to mischief. My greatest joy was stuffing preserving jars with sand and a penny banger. We would clamp on the lid, light the fuse and then duck. Sixty years down the road that practice appears quite dangerous.

 

[Christine H.]

I think I was about 4 years old, there was a small creek across the road from our home and I went fishing. I had a fishing line with a sinker and hook with some red meat on it. I walked across the road over the bridge to a little pond area, I threw the line out till the meat landed on some weed growing on the bottom of the pond.
I laid back on the raised bank, looking at the sky enjoying the quiet. Then suddenly there was a hard pull on the line, I looked and saw an eel on the hook and a yelled my head off, "help help" I screamed. My father and brother ran over to me, where they pulled in the line and I proudly walk home carrying my eel still on the hook.

 

[novezar]

My best memories as a youngen was, & I'm surprised that no one else has mentioned, was none other than "Cracker" night & the bonfires. Celebrating 'Empire Day", 24th of May.
My dad loved buying the biggest you could get. We always let the sky rockets off last.
Another trick was, where my sister, brother & self would go & watch all of our neighbours let theirs off first.
There were quite a number of kids all about the same ages living close by.
When they were all finished, we'd go home to let ours off.
Because we knew we had the best lot of crackers than the other families.
I really think that both our parents enjoyed the night just as much as us 3 siblings.
Great times were had.

 

[Miss muffy]

9 of us 5 girls 4 boys all close in ages mum legally blind so definitely very little money lived in run down rentals from Redcliffs Kerang Shepparton Yarrawonga wherever there was work for dad as a pastry cook, but as kids we had a lot of fun (and always a yummy pie)when there is no money for toys or bikes we did our own thing we had each other and made up all sorts of games from building cubby houses out of scraps of material to climbing trees and pretending we were either looking out for pirates or the frontier Indians our favourite game cowboys and Indians , at one stage when we lived in Kerang the Lodden river was not far from us so we run across the very quiet highway and straight down the bank of the river and try to stop before plunging in , needless to say always one in the river would be pulled out holding a long stick with siblings pulling the other end we had very little but always had a lot of fun Santa always bought us what we needed not what we wanted and to this day we are all very close and always there for each other oh and a stray dog or 2 was always taken in , also dad used to quite often bring a swagman that was down on his luck home for a meal as well , the good days when we felt safe going to the milk bar or walking a couple of miles to school (no money for bus )we all survived

 

[Lindy Pegler]

My father died suddenly in 1964 when I was 10. So it was before then. I remember holding his hand and walking along the street near Port Kembla Harbour. Ships would come in from all over the world bringing sailors in the merchant navy of all creeds and colours. Some very dark African men in sparkling white shirts were walking towards us on the path. We didn't see many people of colour back then and I really wanted to stare at them as they were so unusual and fascinating. My father rested his hand on my shoulder. He said gently that we must not stare at them. They were visitors to our country and we must not make them feel uncomfortable. He said they were just as good as we were. Just different. That all made sense to me. I had many beautiful, wise moments with my father which thankfully a lot of them I can remember. But over the years this vivid picture in my mind and the understanding it has brought me in life has kept my father's wisdom alive and meaningful.

 

[Shellface]

As a kid..only girl,three brothers....the boys had a cubby house up high in the juju tree.
I was not allowed.
But one day I managed to climb up and get into the cubby house.
But... I was too scared to try and climb down..,.
I screamed for help from mum.
She helped by saying...well if you don't climb down.,the flying foxes will get you tonight.....I got down...never went back up.the boys are welcome to it!!¡!

 

[JeweloftheSea]

At aged seven I never knew you had to buy a postage stamp and pay for it before posting a letter. So I wrote a letter to my Auntie on a piece of paper and glued an envelope around the sheet of folded paper and drew a fake stamp. I heard all about it from my mother when my Auntie had to pay a fine for receiving my letter. Yes, I am an artist now and have sold a few canvasses.

 

[Migjet1]

I have many wonderful childhood memories but one of my favourites was when my parents took a child from the orphanage in Edinburgh for each of the school holidays and they took us to wonderful places so that she could experience being with a family and going to different beaches, camping grounds and holiday resorts. Her name was Margaret and my parents did that for several years until we came to Australia. They had four other children in the family and Margaret became the fifth when she was with us.

 

[Vicko]

Standing with my sisters at an early age at the end of our farmhouse kitchen table and my grandmother teaching us how to bake cakes and making biscuits.

 

[zoeandsheba]

During World war 2, I remember waiting for Christmas and enjoy the taste of an orange, a blessed reward under the tree.

 

[Lynnne]

We had a blessed childhood with lots of playing.
We often had picnics at Bonnie Vale with our cousins and aunty and uncle.
So much fun was had on these family picnics.
One thing we used to do was walk through the water the shallows (mangroves) where there were little roots or the like sticking up in big patches. Sand would turn into a sort of muddy sand and it would go up between the toes and the pocky little young shoots would press into your feet though it wouldn't hurt.
We'd all be saying I can do it I can do it I can do it over and over again. It felt a little scary though it was so much fun.

 

[deni67]

We had a blessed childhood with lots of playing.
We often had picnics at Bonnie Vale with our cousins and aunty and uncle.
So much fun was had on these family picnics.
One thing we used to do was walk through the water the shallows (mangroves) where there were little roots or the like sticking up in big patches. Sand would turn into a sort of muddy sand and it would go up between the toes and the pocky little young shoots would press into your feet though it wouldn't hurt.
We'd all be saying I can do it I can do it I can do it over and over again. It felt a little scary though it was so much fun.

There wasn't any crocodiles was there?

 

[Gezzabel]

I remember, there was 6 kids! We used to play “rounders” in the street . Was like a mini cricket bat, and we all played and laughed as we accused each other of cheating. If the ball hit the bat, you had to run! We also had milk delivered each day, by the man who was carted along by a Clydesdale horse. The same thing with bread delivery. This was suburban Melbourne! This generation has no clue! The good old simple days are long gone.

 

[7777]

I will always remember getting up early to go to primary school. Mum and dad had to work early in the morning so it was up to me to get my little sister up, make sure she was ready, and off to school we went holding hands for her safety. I can vividly recall the super hot weather during summer and the cold rainy cloudy days when we would walk home from school. We would be drenched with rain but we always marched on with smiles on our faces going home holding each others hands for safety. I also remember strong winds that made it difficult to walk forward so I said to my sister let's walk side wards that way we can walk in the wind easier. I remember smelling the beautiful scent of the rain. I had a responsibility to get to school and home with my little sister and eventhough we are in our 60s now, I still call her my little sister whom I love with all my heart.

 

[LindaBachop]

My childhood memory -
My auntie Zannie was a 5-foot-nothing blonde bombshell who stripped at the Pink Pussycat at 15… then became the Hells Angels leader’s mole—my uncle.
She was fierce, outrageous, protective, and loved me like fire loves oxygen.
I grew up watching her knock down men twice her size. One woman tried to fight her in our family’s gas station—Zannie warned her. Then shot her. In the tit.
“You shot me, bitch!”
“Yes I did. Now faaaaark off.”
My dad—her brother—was the cop who told her, “No more guns, Zannie.”
She still kept one.
Wrapped. Loaded. Hidden.
And she showed me.
Because she trusted me with everything—where the cash was buried, where the danger lived.
I couldn’t save her in the end.
They didn’t tell me she was dying.
They took her from me.
I never got to ask who pushed the envelope too far.
She would say to me:
“You’re special, Linda. You could never be evil.”
But I wanted to be like her.
Evil looked like love to me.
I love motorbikes.
I love flick knives.
I love gang loyalty.
That protection you feel in a family like that—it’s real.
It wraps around you like a leather jacket with blood on it.
I just… can’t play cards like the rest of them.
Never mind.
I post this because someone else out there might be made of the same kind of dust.
Not fairy dust.
Real dust.
The kind that remembers how to fire back when love’s been threatened one too many times.

 

[zoeandsheba]

The hills and roads were covered with snow, I was 7 y/o and had to watch my friends enjoying skiing and skating from the window as I came back from hospital for appendicitis and was not allowed any fun games, times have changed!

 

[Still Ebby]

The hills and roads were covered with snow, I was 7 y/o and had to watch my friends enjoying skiing and skating from the window as I came back from hospital for appendicitis and was not allowed any fun games, times have changed!

l love the snow and will never forget trying to get up this step hill in the car to the maternity home on the edge of the moors at 5am after it had just snowed.We had to go another way round and Sonja was born half an hour later. l looked out the window and all the snow was weighing the trees down and thick snow everywhere beautiful sight to see.

 

[Jest]

my childhood started in 1939. I lived in the country, my siblings were older so I guess I was like an only child.
My memories are very faint and I have no recollection of the war. I guess I am lucky for that as many have had horrific memories. I had a lucky childhood, lonely but secure.