basics · Changes · gratitude · happiness · knowledge · music · nostalgia

Do You Remember…?

Now I’m really feeling nostalgic! I received an email from a very dear friend this morning. He and his wife live in England and we often forward amusing emails to each other after we receive them.

Following my post yesterday, “Recycle, Reuse and Repair”, which found me lamenting to the tune of “whatever happened to the good old days when broken items could be repaired?” this email now has me thinking even more about “whatever happened to the time when…?”

Take a walk along memory lane yourself! Here is the email I received, along with a few interjections from me. 🙂

The email begins ~

“Someone asked the other day, “What was your favourite ‘fast food’ when you were growing up?”

“We didn’t have ‘fast food’ when I was growing up,” I informed him. “All the food was slow”.

“C’mon, seriously, where did you eat?”

“It was a place called ‘home’,” I explained. “Mum cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we sat together at the dining room table, and if I didn’t like what she put on my plate, I was allowed to sit there until I did like it.”

(Once every blue moon, my Mum would buy me a treat of hot chips, wrapped up in newspaper. But they weren’t fast; I waited forever for them to cook!)

“By this time, the lad was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn’t tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table.”

(I remember this very well; I had to ask, ‘please may I leave the table’, without interrupting any adult conversation!)

“But here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I’d figured his system could handle it:

Some parents never owned their own homes, wore jeans, set foot on a golf course, travelled out of the country or had a credit card.”

(Credit cards weren’t even invented! When you wanted to buy something, you saved up to pay for it!)

“My parents never drove me to school. I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only one speed, (slow).

We didn’t have a television in our house until I was ten. It was, of course, black and white, and the station went off air at 10pm, after playing the national anthem and epilogue; it came back on air at about 6am. And there was usually a locally produced news and farm show on, featuring local people…”

(Oh yes, I remember the black and white TV days; my kids think it’s hilarious that TV’s weren’t in colour!)

“I never had a telephone in my room. The only phone was on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn’t know weren’t already using the line.”

(We didn’t have a phone in the house at all!)

“Pizzas were not delivered to our home…but milk was.”

(I had my first taste of pizza at age seventeen…boy oh boy, did I ever lead a sheltered life!)

“All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers…my brother delivered a newspaper, seven days a week. He had to get up at 6am every morning.

Film stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the films. There were no movie ratings because all movies were responsibly produced for everyone to enjoy viewing, without profanity or violence or almost anything offensive.”

(Those were the days!)

“If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your children or grandchildren. Just don’t blame me if they bust a gut laughing.

Growing up isn’t what it used to be, is it?”

The email continues, asking do you remember the following ~

  • Bottles with holes punched into the lids, for sprinkling water onto clothes before ironing them, because we didn’t have steam irons. (My Mum had one!)
  • Using hand signals for cars without turn indicators. (Yes!)
  • Sweet cigarettes. (Thinking he’s talking about lollies, and yes, I remember them).
  • Coffee shops with juke boxes. (They had one in the café next to where I worked at age 16!)
  • Home milk delivery in glass bottles. (The magpies (birds) liked to peck the silver foil lids off them, and the bottles were recycled!)
  • Newsreels before the movie. (Hmmm…Can’t say as I do).
  • TV test patterns that came on at night after the last show and were there until TV shows started again in the morning (there were only two channels, if you were fortunate). (Oh yes, this I do remember!).
  • Peashooters. (They were a boy thing…I remember boys having them confiscated at school!)
  • 33rpm records. (Still have some!)
  • 45 rpm records. (Yep, still have some 45’s too!)
  • 78rpm records. (Yes! My parents had a few! Wonder whatever happened to them?)
  • Hi-fi. (My parents had one; lasted for years!)
  • Wash tub wringers. (Funny…Mum had one and always told me not to stand too close, in case my hair got caught in it!)

Yes, I know…now I’ve ‘dated’ myself something shocking, and you have probably done the same thing! But would you have it any other way? We lived in an age when the world was younger and much more innocent. Those days cannot, and will not, ever be replaced…and we were lucky enough to have lived them! 🙂

The technology in the world advanced suddenly and with such a great volume of speed that at times it left our heads in a spin. Our children missed out on our ‘good old days’.

I wonder what stories will be told by our own children, when they tell their grandchildren stories of their own ‘good old days”?  😉

Australia · inspiration · Mount Warning · spiritual

On a Natural High

The overnight rain has left us with a dull and overcast day today and the view over Mount Warning, the magical mountain, has changed yet again.

Today, Mount Warning has had her head in and out of the clouds, which is not surprising, when her peak stands at 1,156 metres, or 3,793 feet high. The photo above clearly shows a large cloud mass beginning to move to one side, revealing her head again. To make the photo larger, just click on it.

The view today is bringing back reminders of my years as a teenager. Always the dreamer, my own head lived permanently in the clouds. My mother often pointed out the similarities between myself and the mountain!

Each morning I would head off to school on foot. A bus service could have collected me from my own front door and also dropped me home in the afternoon, but I wasn’t interested in the bus. I walked.

My trip to school saw me walking along the pedestrian path, over the bridge of the Tweed River. In the heat of the hottest summer’s days, a refreshing breeze blew along the river; my arrival to school always came sooner than I wished it would.

The idea of any kind of danger didn’t cross my mind. I enjoyed my lone walks every day. They cleared my mind, I was happy, and the mountain protected me, all the way there.

During high school I struggled with Maths and I blame the mountain. It had greater plans for me each maths lesson. Sitting at my desk beside the window, with an outlook over cane fields leading across to the mountain, it would have me mesmerized, leaving me unable to comprehend the meaning, or use of algebra.

In my first guest post at The Calm Space, I spoke of the inspiration Mount Warning has given me throughout my life. You can read that post here.

Now I find myself praying for fine weather; it’s time to take another trip into the mountain. How many years has it been? I don’t remember. All I know is, it has been way too many.

I recall the winding road, on a steep incline, ending, I think, about three kilometres from the peak of the mountain. At close range, the mountain is eerie and mystical; it has a soul all of its own, an old soul. And it’s a kind and protective soul.

At the point where the road ends, a picnic clearing is surrounded by massive rainforest trees, covering the high altitude area of the mountain. Bush turkeys used to live there; I wonder if they still do? I remember the high pitched trilling of birds calling out to each other, high up in the branches of the ancient trees. A gentle stream of water ran through the rocks on the floor of the rainforest, meandering in and out of the bases of the trees.

It will be interesting to find out if the pictures in my mind’s eye, from so long ago, are still accurate.

What do you see in your own life, that special “something” that you know with absolute certainty will inspire you, lift your spirits and pour energy into your day?

inspiration · music · nostalgia

Time Travelling…With Music

“If music be the food of love, play on”~ William Shakespeare.

This morning my twenty two year old daughter and I had morning tea together. Being Saturday morning, she had already finished her two hour ballet class, so called in for a visit on her way back to her place.

We shared the last of the Welsh Bara Brith, which I had made a few days ago and each of us had a cup of herbal tea, whilst sitting in my quiet room.

My younger daughter, aged seventeen, completed her exams at school last week and had enjoyed a well deserved sleep-in. She joined us in the quiet room for her “early-morning-but-today-it-was-at-eleven-o’clock” mug of coffee. Tucked under her arm was her lap-top.

“Did you two know that Marilyn Manson is coming to Australia this year”?

“Who’s she?” asked Miss twenty two.

“It’s a he”, I informed her.

It must have been our lucky day. With lap-top at the ready, Miss Seventeen proceeded to play a most charming song for her big sister, feeling sure she would also become a fan of Marilyn Manson. (You are detecting the note of sarcasm in my voice here, aren’t you?)

I will not be offering a link here to MM, nor would I repeat any lyrics to his, um…songs. Needless to say, I invited Miss twenty-two to come into my office with me, as I had a you-tube clip that she would be sure to enjoy!

During the week, Káren at the Calm Space has posted a lovely article “Music to Sooth Your Soul”. A link is included in the article, to the most beautiful version of “Hallelujah” by Il Divo. My daughter knew the song and loved this version, along with the beautiful backdrop of The Coliseum.

Once in the mood for hearing such beautiful harmonious voices, we played more songs, including “The Power of Love”, “The Adagio”, “Unchained Melody” and “Ave Maria”.

Seeing the old Righteous Brothers of “Unchained Melody” there, I had to play that also. I now have an urge to see the movie “Ghost” again!

Il Divo, I have discovered, perform a beautiful version of “All By Myself”. I listened to it, but only as it was being sung in Spanish. The version sung in English, by Eric Carmen, had been my mother’s favourite song and far too emotional for me to listen to. I’m having a happy day and have no desire to cry!

At one stage, my daughter questioned me as to whether the room we were in felt cold, then answered her own question; the goose bumps were due to the music! We both had goose bumps.

Isn’t music amazing? It has the ability to transport your soul to another place and another time, give you goose bumps, can be uplifting (or depressing), it can soothe your soul, as Káren told us and it can even rattle your soul, as displayed by my younger daughter’s music!

Káren asks at the Calm Space “What music do you turn to, when your heart is aching and you’re in need of soothing”? Further to Káren’s question, I would like to ask; what music transports your soul to another place, another time?

I do believe Shakespeare had a point; music is the food of love! 🙂

Australia · nostalgia

A Bouquet Of Keys

For days on end, the stainless steel laundry tubs reminded me of long forgotten summer days, spent with my uncle on his dairy farm, in the middle of New South Wales.

As wonderful as the memories were, they puzzled me. Reminders of an uncle, whom I hadn’t seen since I was a teenager, every time I did the laundry? Why???

Bottles had been sterilised in a bleach mixture in my laundry tub, in preparation for my son’s latest batch of home brew, leaving a bleachy-metallic odour lingering for days after…Uncle Jim’s bleachy-metallic odour!

What?!  Why did my beloved Uncle remind me of bleach and stainless steel? This question had my mind working overtime…he had a dairy farm…the milking machines were stainless steel…the vats containing the fresh-from-the-cow milk were stainless steel…they must have been sterilised with something…a bleach mixture maybe?

Regardless, Uncle Jim was back, in my mind’s eye, for a few precious days of re-lived moments…

Way too early in the day, long before any self-respecting man or beast should be stirring (I never was a morning person) rumour has it that Uncle Jim could be found, (should anyone care to find him at that ungodly hour!) herding the cows into the milking sheds.

Memories abound of waking each morning to the crisp summer’s air, after the searing heat of the previous day, snuggled into a light feather quilt, the scent of Uncle Jim’s breakfast of eggs, bacon and fried tomatoes wafting into the room, cooking on the huge fire-wood stove in the adjoining country kitchen.

Remembering that this was a holiday, no school, no one knowing where to find me, steeling a few extra minutes under the feather quilts would be allowed.

The grassy, hay, chicken feather smell, whilst collecting eggs from the chicken coup with my granny, and, as the day grew older, the smell of the dry heat mixing with the dust of the barren country roads, combined with the leaves of the eucalyptus trees.

The high-light of each day began around about the middle of the day, when the dry-heat reached its peak, to a point where I would wonder if I would ever take another breath of cool air again. Uncle Jim would bring the old ute around to the front of the farmhouse, after loading the icy-cold vats of fresh milk into the  back tray, and off we would drive, car windows opened wide, wind hitting our faces, driving along the open dusty roads to the cool rooms, where the milk would await its collection.

With the milk safely delivered to its destination point, it was time for my treat…a huge carton of freezing cold, chocolate or strawberry flavoured milk!

The heat of the day disappeared, along with every mouthful of flavoured milk I took, not daring to return before the next day, when it was nearly time to take the next trip along the dusty roads, to the cool-room and my cool-milk.

As each day drew to a close, (a far more respectable time for both man and beast), Uncle Jim would again herd the cattle along the lines of stalls into the milking sheds, this time with my “help”. Not to be left out, the bull would wander into his favoured stall also, right at the end, where he kept a close watch over his harem!

Now, just when I imagine most of my childhood memories are tucked up safe and sound in their own little colourful boxes and stashed away somewhere in the vicinity of the deep-dark-recesses and long-forgotten, out pops the key to open the box, releasing each magical memory back into the present, cunningly disguised as a whiff of bleach or a carton of strawberry milk.

But I’m not complaining, only surprised. I’m happy to bask in the feather quilt again, just for a moment longer. 🙂

The nose knows far more than we give it credit for, having its own personal source of intelligence.

What joy-filled memories of bygone days have your bouquet of keys unlocked for you?