When Lisa came back from her break, snowed under with things to do, she gave us a list of words – six of them – and instructions to roll dice to choose the topic. Well, I didn’t like number one, watermelon, so I chose gardens. (Check out Lisa’s watermelon themed post.) I’ll use the 10 x statements for this memoir, instead of 150 words. Please ignore the fact the two-week deadline was over a week ago! How did time fly by so fast.

These photos were taken on the 25th October, 1970 with the Box Brownie camera

Welcome to the HAMILTON BOTANICAL GARDENS, Victoria.

The entrance opposite the Police Station.(not the main one)

1. I remember my friend Mavis – shownby the Wishing Well (above) and sitting on the cannon (below)

2.I remember the days, before 1970, when there used to be monkeys, housed in a huge iron-barred cage; monkeys with red-painted bottoms and flea picking fingers: we kids adored them and threw peanuts, still in the shell, into the cage.

3. Gray St Primary School, where I was in grade 5, was just over the road, and I remember sneaking off during lunch hour – I was a town kid, so I could have been going home for lunch. Eventually I got caught and banned, so I had to confine my visits until after school, before I walked home.

4. I remember standing for ages in front of each cage, watching every budgie, canary, cockatiel and finch, guinea pig, rabbit, and other animals and birds I can no longer recall: prolonging the enjoyment and wonder.

5. I remember studying the fountain on every visit, as if I had never seen its lions and elaborate carvings before, thrilled if water cascaded down. I admired the goldfish and waterlilies, too.

4. I remember taking a pocket full of stale bread to feed the ducks on the big pond, amazed by the varieties and loving it even more at duckling time.

5. I remember bravely standing my ground if the emus came close to the fence, pretending I wasn’t scared by the booming noise they made in their throats.

6. I remember hardly giving the wallabies and kangaroos so much as a glance. I’d seen plenty of those during the long car-trips visiting grandma.

7. The peacocks! How I loved to see them and admire their sparkling plumage, not knowing that, one day in the future, I would have a pair of my own – breeding and screaming blue murder from the roof, and dancing outside my back door.

8. I remember the swathes of glorious flowers, the names of which I had no knowledge. I would eagerly await the new annual plantings. I would peer into the little greenhouse with half the windows whited over.

9. I remember reading all the exotic names of the trees from all over the world, and marvelling how they had started from just a small seed from another country, so many years ago. I loved autumn.

10.But my most remembered memory is of the time, when wagging, I intended having my lunch seated under the huge draping branches of the biggest tree in the gardens, hidden from sight. You cannot imagine the horror that confronted me – there must have been at least a dozen black-and-white robed nuns, taking up all the seats. I backed out of there quick smart. The sight of nuns on the street always frightened me.

It's all about me

Comics

No, not the stand-up type, comic books. As you might have noticed in my post a few days back, I’m starting a new course at Coursera this week: Comic Books and Graphic Novels (among others). I was only going to look, but boy, I’ve been hooked big-time. The head lecturer, William Kuskin, is so bloody enthusiastic. He is actually a professor of Medieval Literature and he loves comics because they have the same concept: telling a story with words and pictures.

archie

In just under two months, I’ll need to produce a comic – four pages and a cover. How good is that! Well, it doesn’t have to be good. William assured us that most people aren’t good at drawing – stick figures will be fine. Just have a go. OK, I’m in, hook, line and sinker. donald duck

Now, this post was prompted by a discussion thread asking people about their favourite comic. I can’t remember now what popped into my head first, but today all sorts of comic characters came to mind. And a lot didn’t, not until I browsed eBay to see if one of the graphic novels recommended was there. It was, but then the comics surfaced. Memories!

Was my daughter named after Wendy the Good Witch? Remember her! – the one in the cute little red jumpsuit. phantom And then, The Phantom, mum’s favourite character, with his dog Devil. Casper the Friendly Ghost, Jughead, Archie, Veronica, Hot Stuff – that naughty little devil with the pointy tail. Superman, Batman, Spooky, the naughty ghost, Dennis the Menace. Beagle Boys, Donald Duck, Daisy and old Scrooge and the rest of that Walt Disney gang. Mickey Mouse didn’t appeal all that much. spooky
hotstuff And how could I ever forget Dagwood Bumstead and Blondie! Mighty Mouse? dagwood

It’s no good – I couldn’t possibly come up with a favourite! Not in a million years.

Unless it is Teena – she was a comic strip in the newspaper and I so wanted to be her, from the time I was eight years old. Mum even agreed that when I became a teenager, I could be called Teena instead of the family nickname of Teen. It didn’t happen, dad refused! As if adding an ‘a’ to my nickname would make be boy-mad and spend all day on the telephone. We never even had a phone, not that I can recall. I borrowed this from Mike Lynch Cartoons Blog. Climbing trees was great fun. And I actually did go on a debating team in fourth form at high school – and it won!

teena

Do you remember how excited you were, when you got your hands on a new comic to read? What was your favourite?

Bite Size Memoir

Bite Size Memoir #6: My first Job

I’m still playing catch-up with Lisa’s Bite Size Memoir challenges from the past. Lisa is back from her short break now, so the prompts have begun again. This time, instead of the 150 words, I am using the option of 10 x ‘I remember’ statements. I was 17 when I began my twelve month State Enrolled Nurse training at the Mount Gambier Hospital, my birthplace, in South Australia. So, here we go… shame I cannot lay my hands on my certificate and badge, and I haven’t a proper photo of me in uniform.

I remember My First Job.

I remember wearing a bright lime green midi-dress, with a gold chain belt, and white boots to my interview with Matron Odgen.

I remember the embarrassment of being examined by kindly Dr Joske, at Casterton, for the health assessment and chest xray.

I remember that first day going into my own room, on the fourth floor: room 407, and getting in trouble at one regular room inspection, months later, for not using Marveer to polish the wooden fitted furniture.

me nurses home

I remember the amazement I felt, that first time, going to the staff cafeteria – the yummy smells, all that food.

I remember I promptly put on weight because it was the first time in my life I’d ever had access to as much food as I could eat – three courses! every day! me blue lake

I think I remember that my uniforms were laundered (the property of the hospital), but I had to iron them, using Fabulon ironing spray: I shrunk my pink woollen mini dress (you can tell) in the wash and also managed to shrink a yellow woollen jumper (which took me months to knit) in the clothes dryer.

me lift

I remember collecting my first pay from the bank and buying a secondhand lounge suite for my mum: I still have a payslip to show you one day.

I remember being scared in my first lift experience: I still am nervous in them. (That’s a classmate in the photo.)

me nursing

The watch my parents gave me when I left home: it was impractical for reading while counting pulses, so I had to get another.

I remember the first body I prepared for the morgue, but I cannot remember her name: I treated her with respect and I cried.

me hotpants

I remember the first time I had to give an injection – the glass plunger fell out TWICE – and, after signing out the drug for the third time, the Sister came and watched, but she still made me do it to the poor woman patient: Over the border, in Victoria, nursing aides didn’t do injections.

Click on the elephant to see stories by other bloggers.

Christine R

Trying to keep the brain cells alive.

Category Archives: It’s all about me

Lisa’s Bite Sized Memoir: Gardens

Comics

Bite Size Memoir #6: My first Job