Background
I think Mrs Faulkner was going to retire after my Second Grade Exams, so we needed to find a new teacher, preferably closer to home.
(Chap 3a (4 new)on Word
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We had a black cat when I was quite small. Timmy came with us from the house in Greenwich, so I am sure he was older than I. My sister, who was almost ten when I was born, liked to dress Timmy up in doll’s clothes and take him for rides in the old cane pram we had. People would start to look in at the beautiful baby, and be shocked that it was our cat in there, instead.
Tim got a bit old and started to leave his "stuff" in the wrong places, so it was decided it was time for him to go. Dad put him to rest, as I later learned, out in the back garden. I was in contact with the people who bought our house at Ryde in 1986, and the man mentioned some animal remains he found out in the garden next to the laundry and outside loo. I suggested it was most likely Timmy’s remains, discovered nearly 60 years after his "passing."
After Timmy the cat, we got a cattle dog, my brother Joe called Jippy. After a while Jippy got pregnant. So along came a little chubby bundle. A smaller version of his mother, a puppy I called "Toby." After "Uncle Toby’s Oats," one of our favourite breakfasts. Not a lot was done with Toby, I know I loved playing with him. Before long he caught "Distemper" and died. I did miss him but for some reason, no one explained what had happened to him. I am not really clear how I felt about it all then, as we had other issues we were dealing with at the time, of my Dad's "getting restless" and subsequently leaving us.
Toby's burial place was built over by later housing development many years ago across the road from our house, in the paddock that was, back then.
We enjoyed many lovely trips away, as a family, in my early days. Another special trip was to the Hills in Barmedman. Barmedman is in the Central West of New South Wales. I know we had a few holidays with the Hills. Sadly dad moves away. Mum and me at home. J until he is sent off to Boarding School in Bathurst. Richard decides to follow Dad up North to Qld. On the Eastern side of Australia and in the First State.
My Dad grew up in the area and was good friends with Merv Hill, the owner of this property.
I remember some strange things about the Hill property. One was a strange 'outhouse' where the facility was called "a disolvenator!" Not sure if it was just a glorified pan over a pit, otherwise known as a "Pit toilet." I reckon the old song "Redback on the Toilet Seat" or "Seven Old ladies Got Stuck In The Lavatory" or some such, would go well here.
Thanks to my sister who had this amongst some old prints that I, later, had converted. She says this was one of my happiest photos and I believe she was right.
Thinking back to times as a young boy, I still have pleasant memories even now, at almost 66, of precious times with my wider family. I know my mother had a lot of illnesses, but no one talks about them much, because, as my mother-in-law believes - if you talk about these things they will happen; or some such other crazy notion.
Many of my very young days were spent with my mum's mother, Nanna as we called her. I know I often tagged along with her to the “Harbord Digger's Club” or "Torch - Bearers." (Legacy*) These adventures could have been because Mum was off at some doctor, or something - having some kind of treatment. Nanna taught me a lot of card games which I cannot remember now like Cribbage and so on. Sometimes we would play Dominoes or some other game she had. She was very good at keeping me amused.
Mum and I were always "going into town" - (our capital city, Sydney) when I was very small. One of the reasons was my many doctor's appointments. One trip we made, quite frequently, into "town" entailed a visit to the eye specialist. As a very small boy, I had had a correction of a "turn" in my left eye, which needed regular observation.
Just near the ophthalmologist, was the big department store, called David Jones (still there, and very recently celebrated another milestone.) It was a real treat to go for a ham and mustard sandwich and a chocolate milkshake at "DJ's"... I still like the same all these years later. See the "Geoffossary" at the end of this book explaining some queer terms I have come up with in relation to milkshakes and other strange ideas.
It has taken me almost "three score years" as the bible calls the age of Sixty, to figure something out! I now realise why it was, back in my young days, I used to get especially sore feet, following my mum around the big city. Have a look sometime, at a little child following his or her mum or dad around. For every step a Mother takes...the kid is taking two steps, at least!
At the back of the Bridge Road property, was a combined Workshop and Playroom complex. I still remember running the Hornby Large Gauge wind up railway from one end of the playroom to the other. Dad, eventually, converted it all to living space, for my Mother's youngest brother and his wife and young children.
All these alterations and conversions were able to be let out for more income for our living expenses, due to the fact my father did not want to support us after he left us in 1959. The Government, initially, would not pay my Mother a Single Mother's (or 'Deserted Wives' as it was known then) pension without her taking my Father to court. He made sure that would not happen, with threats to her well-being if she did. More of this unfolds, later.
Television or TV was very new in those days. Television commenced in Australia in 1956. Black and White of course. One Public Channel and 2 other Commercial ones for some years before a third started up, and the studios for the newest one were a lot closer to where we lived.
It commenced in our street in three other houses before we finally got one, ourselves. I remember visiting Mc Crae's down the road on the opposite side to us, first. Then a little bit later the neighbour next to the McCrae's got one. There was one more house we visited to watch the afternoon children's shows before we finally had our own.
Not all that long after my father left us, there were rumblings of discontent from my eldest brother. He and my Dad were really good mates. Richard was 8 years older than me and I guess a typical teenager. One night at the tea table Mum decided we would not have the tv on during dinner.It ended up being very argufying (argumentative)between Mum and my brother, over the tv.
"Richard, we will not have the television on during tea time!" Mum stated quite strongly.
"Why can't we have it on, Mum?" said Richard.
Of course, Mum's usual response was....wait for it...
"Because I said so; and for no other reason!"
Following this, there was a kind of 'dance' or fight I guess, between my Mum and my eldest brother.
These days I know we are guilty of eating in front of the TV for both lunch and Dinner. Tsk, tsk. I guess one excuse is we are more comfortable in our recliners. maybe an 'oldies' privilege, ha!
I don't think it was all that long after, my brother moved up to Queensland to live with our Dad. My sister had already moved into a flat of her own with her growing son, and my other brother was on the verge of being sent off to boarding school in the Central West of our state. So it was going to be just Mum and me for some years after that.
After my old music teacher's retirement, I needed a new music teacher. Unfortunately, we had no vehicle at that time, so I had to catch a bus that ran in close proximity to the new teacher, then walk the rest of the way to her place in Edgar St, Eastwood. After the lesson I was able to get another bus that ran close to the school (Eastwood Heights), I attended - on those piano tuition days. I stayed with the new teacher for 2 years.
Then one day I made the mistake of telling her I might be moving to another teacher. So when I turned up the next week for my lesson she said...
"Sorry I have already placed someone in your spot in my schedule." ... I seem to remember we spent an inordinate amount of time talking in the lesson with her, instead of learning. That is why I was going to move. It was a good thing.
When I was 10 years of age, I received a new kind of instrument. I can't remember where it came from, but I was given a medium-sized Piano Accordion. I think it was a 48 bass instrument. I wish I had kept it, as it quite possibly would have been considered antique. I know it was quite old. I did not take all that long to figure out how to play it.
Again, all by myself. In the faint recesses of memory, I think I may have joined with the Mouth Organ band at church, on my new Accordion. I was also about this time as well, acting as a relief pianist in the Primary Department of Sunday School. Mrs Armstead, an elderly lady who was the regular pianist could sometimes not come due to illness.
As we were renting out parts of our property, a neighbour "dobbed" us into council for leasing out, as they claimed, unsuitable premises. They had been in trouble for renting out a disused chicken coop and had a go at putting Mum into the authorities for renting out our back converted flat.
Fortunately, the council regulations had recently been changed to allow 'dual occupancy' on a property. With this in mind, the ordinance inspector was satisfied there were suitable facilities for the back tenants for washing etc. So no charges were laid. It was a pity I didn't do as well, many years later, with Council, on another issue.
As I grew older, Mum would give me a list of things to get down at the local General store, which also included the greengrocer. The Italian owner of the store was always so helpful. He would add the prices of all the veggies, and so on, to my shopping list, and when I got home, I would count out the change back to Mum, from the money she had given me for the shopping. I doubt many kids of less than teenage years could do the same thing now, and be safe.
The shop owner's Persian cat was the Mum of our next furry fellow. Seems his Persian Queen got involved with a Manx male from around the corner from the shop. We knew both animal owners of course. Enter a Persian/Manx cross with a lovely Persian fur coat and a stump of a tail from his father.
We called him "Pinnochio"...Pinny for short, due to the queer tail he had. I wonder if he might have been considered the runt of the litter, but then other kittens would have had the same tail methinks. Perhaps the others were females, and I know my Mum could not afford the greater cost of spaying a female kitten. I loved Pinny very much. He was such an affectionate cat. You could never pat him or stroke him too many times. He loved to be loved. He was never cross with anyone.
Sadly, some tenants we had also owned a funny looking long haired wolf kind of dog. It had caught the 'Mange' disease. They lived in our main house whilst we lived up the back. Anyway, poor Pinny caught the disease from the dog. We tried all sorts of treatments for him including some sort of greasy natural ointment someone recommended. But it was no use, and we thought it was kinder to put Pinny down. We were all heart-broken, as not only was he a loveable cat, he was a good mouse catcher as well.
