Bite Size Memoir, Other Stuff

Bite Size Memoirs: No 2, 3 and 4.

I’ve joined in Lisa’s Memoir challenge late, but want to catch up with the completed prompts from the past. Lisa is on a break, so that will give me that chance.   Memoir must be no more than 150 words. I could also choose to do 10 x remember statements.

If you would like the see the posts others have posted, just click on the elephant below each post,. It will take you to a compilation.

Bite Size Memoir No.2 “Jinks and Japes”

I’m a spoil sport when it comes to pranks. No doubt, I was mean to my younger sister and four brothers and played tricks on them; as you do.

Mr Ex told me of his favourite prank. He and his friends would place a wallet or handbag on the side of the road, then hide. As a vehicle was pulling up, they’d yank the wallet out of sight using the attached fishing line. Then, they’d stay hidden until the puzzled driver departed.

One day, my flustered daughter came running inside. She owned up that she’d just been caught doing the same thing!

Last year, I saw a wallet upended on the road. I stopped, but not until I’d looked around for the fishing line. There wasn’t enough cover to hide anyone. The wallet belonged to an old bloke nearby, having fallen from the top of a taxi exiting his street.

Bite Size Memoir No.3 “Magic and Fairy Tales”

Mum brought magic alive for us. She encouraged us to believe.

At one home, we had a magic date tree that bore fruit only at night. At another, we would plant a penny in the dirt, marking the spot with a stick. It would turn into two bob overnight. Everyone knew about the tooth-fairy, but this one was our special fairy.

We feared the hobgoblins and hobyahs, and watched out for trolls. Mum fed us ghost stories. When older, we would sit in the dark, around the open fireplace, and scare ourselves silly.

I’ll always remember the time Mum did see a ghost. She came rushing into her bedroom – I was sleeping in the old cot while Dad was away – and told me she’d seen Nana’s feet doing her signature twiddling thing in front of the fire. Nana had given the promised sign. I was sworn to secrecy.

Bite Size Memoir No.4 “Sports Day”

As a child, I wasn’t a very physical person. I struggled with physical education at school. I’d prefer reading a book. The only game I was remotely interested in was softball in third grade. As long as I got to the first base, I did well. I could run, fast.

I reached my peak in Grade 6, at George Street State School, Hamilton. I was taller than almost everyone else so I could run faster, jump higher and longer. I was a star.

I came back to reality in High School when I resumed my place near the back of the pack. Mum would happily write me a note once a month to get out of sport. It didn’t get me out of donning the dreaded bottle green tunic and bloomers. Uggghhhhh! How I hated that sports uniform.

Sport’s days were hot and boring. Swim sports? I won’t go there.



Outside of my 150 words, I want to point out that, as an adult, I did play lawn bowls, basketball and netball – even a game of competition tennis once when the team was desperate!

That was fun! I hope you enjoyed my bite sized memoirs as much as I did writing them.


26 thoughts on “Bite Size Memoirs: No 2, 3 and 4.

  1. I might be on a break but this is great reading, Christine! Glad to be of some inspiration especially the Magic and Fairy Tales – I LOVE the tree turning pennies into 2 bob overnight – smacks of a very imaginative parent and fun upbringing. Looking forward to finding out more and more..
    Lisa xx


  2. Sue says:

    Lovely memories, Sports Uniform – yep, ours was a lighter green, 7 gored skirt with the obligatory bloomers, hem 3 fingers above the knee, when the teachers backs were turned you pulled your jumper down and let it pull the skirt up (pesky jumper). I was usually the reserve on any sports team. Oh the good old days.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sue says:

    Home Economics, I flunked that, didn’t even finish the apron properly, think I was sick when they were being done & I never got round to finishing it. Don’t think the Home Ec. teacher (Mrs. Candy) liked me, don’t know why I was nice to everyone, but extremely shy.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Sue, I snipped a bloody hole in my apron and had to learn how to do a patch! Had to match the yellow / white gingham. Jean Smith, the sewing teacher was some type of cousin to my dad.) I got 10/10 for a teacake, but else everything else I cooked was pretty ordinary. We were told not to mash potoatoes with a fork, but I did. I didn’t believe her when she said she could tell – she could. Geez, didn’t I get into trouble! 😀 😀 😀


  4. Sue says:

    Hope the patch blended in all right. You can never hide anything from relatives and they never let you forget. You sure picked the hard way to mash spuds.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Sue, have you ever tried to mash spuds with a wooden spoon? That was what I was supposed to use – apparently metal tarnishes the whiteness of the spuds. I gave them a quick mash with the fork first, but eagle eyes could tell. As to the apron patch, it was on the front and I was ever conscious of it. 😀


  5. Sue says:

    You poor thing, never tried a wooden spoon. think she conned you. All the chefs seem to use a “ricer” if not a “masher”. She couldn’t tell one way or another, she just knew what you were going to do.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh no, the wooden spoon was from ‘the right way to do things’. The metal did give it a grey look, Sue, I couldn’t deny it when she compared the colour to the smug girls’ bowls of mash! Perhaps chefs use plastic mashers, it’s just metal that discolours. Remember that, if you ever have to dish up a ten star star meal! LOL. 😀


  6. raroto says:

    I had fun reading the stories. It’s a cute challenge with a cute title – Bite Size Memoirs, made me wanna go grab some Kit Kats 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • I think–not certain–it’s the quality of metal in the spoon that makes the difference. If it is stainless steel, the taters won’t discolor, or some such thing. (makes sense to me, that) Anyone know a chemist (or do you Aussies use that to mean druggist? If so, what do you call a person who knows chemistry?

      Liked by 1 person

      • You are right of course, I thought about it later. In those days most spoons wouldn’t have been stainless steel and these ones probably had been part of the cookery class for fifty years already. It may have been a reaction with the base metal scraping the saucepan, too.

        Your question about chemists had me over at Wikpedia. Apparently pharmacology branched off into its own field in 1847. Downunder, we older folk refer to pharmacies as chemist shops, and the pharmacist as a chemist. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought about it before. The real chemists are still chemists.


  7. Think your mom was a woman after my own, although she was more creative. I’m with Lisa–love the money switch tree. I merely made snapdragons (as well as many inorganic objects) talk, plucked real apples from the ugly fake apple tree at McDonalds, magically materialized castles and rocket ships, and, once, an entire real wooden log cabin from Santa overnight in the back yard (and it rained all that d#mned night long too).

    Can you believe my now-grown sons don’t speak to me? At least the snapdragons still find me fascinating 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • The dates came from the magic tree, the money switching was with buried pennies (yeah, I know, I didn’t pull Lisa up on it, but can’t let it perpetuate further). I’m sorry to hear your sons don’t speak to you. [sigh] Unconditional love will only carry you so far. Mine has reached its limit. My son ‘tolerates’ me and waits for me to offend him as soon as I open my mouth. Apparently I have a giggle that drives him bonkers. I’m almost 60 and now he tells me!


        • I couldn’t believe it, when he said it. Because of his past judgemental words at me, I’m usually a bit nervous around him, so I’m coming across with that ‘fake brightness’. Apparently. I know his trouble, he cannot see the mother metaphor he had as a child. I’m sorry for him, more than for myself. Thanks for your kind words. ❤


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