[Aromatherapist1]

Mum taking us to the beach every morning and meeting her girlfriends and then taking us home for lunch and we’d sleep all afternoon, she’d say.

 

[possum2512]

Where does one start? Cracker night -Christmas-Holidays. Seeing the little flavoured milk under the tree out front of primary school when arriving. Using teachers large metal hand rotated pencil sharpener on her desk. Or listening for the jaffas as they are rolled down the wooden stairs in the pictures during intermission (none wasted-all eaten) while old Mrs Anderson plays the piano. Sunday roast and waiting and listening patiently for the ice-cream van after lunch. Playing slot cars after girl guides then going to milk bar for a lime spider and a huge bag of lollies for just 20c. Oh there are just so many many more

 

[Leonard Hall]

At 85 years old I am not a child but at age 34 we arrived in Melbourne as 10 pound poms and we were sitting on the beach for the very first time when a man emerged from the sea and accosted us by saying "where are my thongs" and we had absolutely no idea what he was saying. We later realised he was accusing us of stealing his 'flip flop' sandals that were in fact further along the beach.

 

[Leonard Hall]

Quite a lot of Seniors grew up in war time Britain!

That would be us now aged 84 and 85.

 

[Leonard Hall]

Remember that as if it was yesterday. Those little peck holes in the top of the milk bottle.

I recall birds used to do that in the UK too and we would put things there for the milkman to put over the bottles to stop that happening.

 

[possum2512]

Where does one start? Seeing the little flavoured milk bottles under the tree out front of primary school when arriving. Using teachers large metal hand rotated pencil sharpener on her desk. Or listening to the jaffas as they are rolled down the wooden stairs in the pictures during intermission while old Mrs Anderson plays the piano. Waiting and listening patiently for the ice-cream van on Sundays. Going to milk bar for a lime spider. Not to forget the big bag of lollies you got from the corner store for 20 cents. Oh there are so many many more

 

[Cherry]

I miss the days when we enjoyed a chiko roll & a spider (a yummy drink made with lemonade & ice cream), after school. Gone are the good ole days of the 70’s & our favorite milk bars.

 

[Jasmine]

Christmas was my favourite time of the year for sure! About 2 weeks before Christmas, my dad’s garage was out of bounds to myself and 4 older siblings. This was because it became “Santa’s workshop!” For those 2 weeks, dad would re- paint and repair old bikes, dolls prams etc so that we felt like we were getting new ones for Christmas. Mum was also busy sewing dolls dresses and also pillows and covers for the prams. Christmas morning was just magical! We didn’t need brand-new toys etc from a shop. Our presents were made and given with love.

Lovely story, reminded me of my childhood Christmases

 

[Sethia Soliman]

[Posting this on behalf of one of the members, Kermin]

I am Kermin and I am writing about my nostalgic wish that came true some 30 years ago. I used to be an air stewardess for my country's national airline, Air India, in the 1970s.

During my first trip to Perth on duty, it was in the midst of winter and I along with my colleagues were out shopping. We were waiting for a bus when out of the blue I said: 'I wish I could live here in Perth.'

Lo and behold, 30 years later my wish came true as my family and I migrated to Australia and chose Perth to settle in. It was unbelievable and I have no regrets whatsoever. So wishes do come true. Good luck!!!

 

[Sordfish2blue]

There are so many good memories. Going to the local picture theatre on a Saturday afternoon to sit on the canvas seats and sneaking to meet your boyfriend, unknown to anyone. When the lights went out there was a scuffle to join your boyfriend and another scuffle when the movie finished and lights on to get back to your original seat. Parents would ban us going to movies if they knew. Sitting around the radio as a family and listening to our favourite broadcasts. I wish I could remember the broadcast about a boy who would always get the cuts for being cheeky and say “aw sir, that hurt”. It was so funny. If anyone can remember could you please let me know. Thanks. Also going to the creek to watch the green frogs hopping around. The creek was out of view of adults but that was ok as it was safe and never considered dangerous. Guyfawks night with firework, no longer allowed. Exciting Xmas because you wanted to eat the pudding to find as many threepences as you could. One present from Santa Clause and we were so excited to get that one present. Going to Caloundra every Xmas for holidays with the whole family staying in an old fibro house on the beach. Life has changed so much. So glad I grew up in the 40s and 50 s.

 

[Elray]

So many memories of days gone past,
Walking to school and running so fast,
Skipping a rope & riding a bike,
And I was just a little tike!

The clip clop of the milky’s horse,
The bread man leaving his bread of course,
Sixpence of lollies filled the bag,
Dad sitting outside smoking a fag.

Playing chasey with the neighbours every day,
Walking the dog in a lazy way,
Hopscotch, handball & elastics too,
These were the things we liked to do.

Black & white telly with no remote,
Reading books we liked to quote,
My memory is filled with such lovely times,
When my Mum & Dad were still alive!

Love this poem

 

[TrishH]

Love this poem

Thankyou

 

[featherfour]

My memory is a bit of a mystery and goes back to 1961, when I started at primary school (we were called "bubs") at Hughesdale State School. I was not taught the alphabet, or even that the vowels were "a, e, i, o, and u;" instead, our walls were covered in charts where all of the sounds were represented by a different colour. We were taught to recite "White a" (as in cat), "Yellow u" (as in up), pink i (as in bit), "blue e" (as in get), "gold o" (as in got). The "a" in "gave" would have a different colour because it was a different sound. The "th" in "the" would both be the same colour, because they represented a single sound.

What was this all about? I have no idea! Certainly we were part of an experimental cohort, maybe there was some theory about learning and synesthesia? I went to a different school when I was in grade 4 and honestly didn't know what a vowel was! I had a bit of catching up to do. I've tried to find out what was going on, but never been able to track it down. I think it might have been called "colourwords" but try Googling that! Anyway, I thought I'd share it here, maybe someone else will remember or know what was going on.

 

[@valentid1960]

A fond memory I have is my billy cart my brother built using scrap materials dragged home from the local tip down the bottom of our street. The wheels were from a discarded pram, and the frame was from timber off-cuts from building sites after World War 2 ended.
We used to sell our old newspapers.
My Mum used to get The Sun, which is a smaller size (Tabloid) than The Age (broadsheet), so my Grandpa used to bring us his old Age newspapers for Mum to bundle up into long rolls and tie with string.
My sister and I would wheel the bundles up to the local greengrocer on our billy carts to sell for a penny a pound.
When we had threepence each, we could go for a swim at the local baths.
Absolute decadence!
Another use for the billy cart was taking the large glass bottle from the kerosene heater up to the local garage to get our quart of blue kerosene.
We were tiny little people, and had to be so careful.
We'd bring home the filled bottle, and Mum would quickly invert the bottle into the circle designed for it. She had to be super quick so not a drop was spilled.
She'd then have "power" to cook our tea...on the metal frame which sat over the burner.
We all sat huddled in the kitchen together, with the kerosene lanterns providing light.
Ah, happy memories pre-electricity.

I have similar memories of the Billy Cart. We usually made ours the first week of the summer holidays. The axles were wood that my dad had in his workshop, as was the centre piece to hold the axles in place. The rear axle was nailed permanently but the front axle was bolted allowing it to turn when going round corners or going up driveways. The wheels were ball bearings I got from a neighbour and the steering was a rope. There were no brakes only tennis shoes. When you wanted to stop at the bottom of the hill you either slid allowing the back of the cart to slide on the bitumen, or continued up the hill a bit before rolling back into the cutter. If you came back to quick, when the back hit the gutter you flipped up.

 

[Los]

I fondly remember a Chinese takeaway store in downtown Ipswich named Jimmy Wah. We lived not far from it and because this was before takeaway containers, we would go with saucepans and pots that would be filled up to take home.

We used to do the same in the early 70s at the shop in Bexley (Sydney) - can't remember the name as I only saw/visited it when I was staying at my parents'

 

[@valentid1960]

So many fond memories of growing up in our neighbourhood in the 60s. My parents house was the first in the street, so dad could choose how big a block he wanted. He went for the standard quarter acre. As our house was built on an old cow paddock and many times a cow would break down the barbwire fence, with me calling out to dad ‘the cows broken the fence’.
A neighbour of dad’s who lived with his family up the road would come out to the street and call out asking if dad wanted a beer.
Whenever someone new moved into the street, my parents would have a street party for them and everyone would come and welcome them. The men were outside on the back veranda drinking beer and the ladies were inside drinking either sherry or shandy.
Our Mum made a life long friend from one of these street parties, and would drop in for a cuppa and scones.
As we grew older my sister and I would have our friends. Either playing cricket in the street or kicking the footy. In the summer the homemade billy carts would come out with dad and I replacing broken parts and a fresh paint job. With two big hills we would fly down the street. (No safety gear). Having a pool table which our uncle made, made us very popular.

 

[maryfern33]

One of my earliest happy memories was of the giddy euphoria I felt when my squeals of delightful terror, pleading “Higher! Higher! Push me higher” were answered with a firm adult hand pressed into my tiny four year old back, as I flew through the air on a rope & plank swing that hung from the giant bough of the ancient plum tree in our back yard in Merrylands, in suburban Sydney.

I hardly ever closed my eyes when I was in that swing. I used to hold on for dear life, and lean back as far as I could, just a little bit beyond safe, just until it felt a little dangerous, and I could catch glimpses of the sky through the tree’s purple leaves.

I could survey my whole world from that swing in my purple tree. I could see the vegetable patch with my Grandfather toiling there daily, producing food for our family. I could see the outside wash house, with my Mother or my Grandmother standing at the old (though new then) electric washing machine.
I could see the backyard Dunny…. down the concrete path, halfway between the house and the back fence, just before the vegie patch…. that was like walking a 100 miles to pee when it was dark or cold or raining, but we never thought twice about it.

I could see anyone approaching from the back door to spoil my fun, I could see the neighbours backyards on both sides of our house and if I stood up on my swing, I could usually see over the fence and spy on what they were up to. I could pretty much survey my whole world from that tree swing.

As I got older and braver, I would climb it to pick it’s sweet, juicy black plums. Eating dozens of them a day. Their juice used to run down my arms, down my chin & typically would also ruin my clothes. But despite the vast quantities of fruit I ate, my appetite for dinner was never ruined. Fast forward 56 years and I still eat too much fruit and never ruin my appetite for dinner! Funny the memories that never leave us.

What lovely memories. truly happy times.

 

[Honeybunny]

I rember the ice man coming around in a horse drawn cart & the iceman would carry the blocks of ice in & put the ice in to the ice chest . The ice was carried in by 2 hooks . This happened once a week & the horse knew which house to stop at.

 

[maryfern33]

My enduring nostalgic memories arise from aromatics.
With incredible love, I recall the fragrance of my Mum's favourite "scent" - Black Rose, by Goya.
The memory of this dainty bottle on her dressing table, used sparingly on special occasions, is lasting.
The aromas my Mum created caring for us are so emotive: lighting the kerosene lanterns on dark mornings and the kerosene heater to cook our porridge, the enormous pot of soup or stew bubbling on the stove top for hours, the sponge baked for the birthday child, the fresh batch of scones rolled up in a small tablecloth, the whiff of Dettol on our cut knees, the vapour of Vicks rubbed into our chests, the delicacy of the flowers in the garden - sweet peas, lilacs, violets, jonquils, daffodils, roses, bouvardia, lavender, gardenias.
A favourite is my Grandpa bringing us our "living" Christmas tree each year, a large branch axed from a pine tree on his orchard. Our tree would fill the corner next to the fireplace, and would last for about 6 weeks.
The lingering fragrance of the pine needles permeated our house until they started to drop.
SO GOOD!

What beautiful memories! can actually picture all these happening in your household. Our memories keep us alive.

 

[Beb]

Growing up in peakhurst Sydney and Dulwich Hill we would sleep with windows open , we would walk home late at night and walk through a park with no fear. We played alot of out door games, hopscotch, elastics, skipping, what's the time Mr wolf and many more games. Today it's all games on phones, tablets and computers. I grew up in the 60s and 70s how nice would it be to be able to go back for just one day

So agree much better times