Childhood Memories – For my Sisters

Terri wrote a marvellous post recently about her childhood so please check it out if you haven’t already done so.  She had been tagged by Trisha from Rolling who responded to my comment by tagging me as well.  At least I think she did.

So I thought I’d respond by telling you a little more about where and, almost as importantly, when I grew up.  I was a child of the 60’s but relate more with the 70’s.  Australia was the lucky country and in 1958 when I was 18 months old and my new sister only a few weeks, Mum and Dad took the big step of moving from the northern suburbs of Melbourne with their bluestone gutters and crowded houses out to the new orchard subdivisions in the east.

It was a major decision because their brothers and sisters had tended to stay close to home, but land was cheap out in the sticks and the estates were sprining up with new strip shopping centres and schools.   We lived at 10 Richardson Street, Box Hill South and I can still remember our first phone number, 283928, and that old black bakelite phone copped a hammering because that was how Mum kept in touch with her family all those miles away.

 There were no made roads or footpaths and in spring the grass grew high in the open drains that ran alongside the roads.    Dad used to poor a few gallons of petrol into the drains each weekend then throw in a match and we’d watch the fire run along the water surface.  He used to tell me it was to get rid of the rats, and they certainly did run as the flames burnt the grass, but I think the real reason was because he was a bit of a pyromaniac.

The first photo is of me and my oldest sister Karen with our dog Noddy.   She died when she was around 8 or 9 years old after being poisoned.  In those days dogs were allowed to roam free in the neighbourhood and she lived most of her life under our house,  I still remember how she used to do laps of the house when we got home after being out because she was so excited to see us.

We had an outside toilet and the nightcart man would come once a week to take the full pan away and leave an empty one.  It stunk of crap and phenyl but was normal across the estate until the sewerage was connected in the early 60’s .   The pile of dirt we are standing on was from the ditch that the sewerage pipes were laid in and it was a wonderful day when the potty no longer needed to be used at night time and when the blowflies didn’t muster around your bum when you sat down for a crap.  It also meant an end to worrying about red back spiders which were known to nest under toilet seats.

It was a modest house but it was home and I had my own bedroom complete with vintage car wallpaper and a map of the world on the wall.  My bed lay beneath the window and I used to lie in there in the morning and watch the dust motes dance on air.

We had a hills hoist in the backyard that we hung from and swung each other around in circles.   One Christmas we got a pool and Dad never quite found the right spot for it, at various times it lived in the front and back yards and summers were spent making whirlpools and floating on our backs around in circles.  That was when we weren’t sunbaking on the footpaths when they were made and the roads sealed in the mid 60’s.   Summers seemed longer and hotter back then and they were marked by Dad’s barbecues in the back yard with charcoaled snags [sausages] and the best chips you’ve ever tasted covered in salt.

That backyard had visits from cowboys and indians and superheroes, Robin Hood and his merry men, and the small bushes in the front yard became an obstacle course for make believe horses and a parade of bikes and other wheeled toys like the go-kart my Godfather gave me one year.

And there were the smells – the fermenting apples that fell from the trees in the front yard in summer, Mum’s Sunday roast dinners and Dad’s BBQ’s, my Nana’s scones, the petrichor of summer rain, and the smell of fresh cut grass, all evoke wonderful memories for me.

At night time I could hear the trains on the Box Hill line in the distance and the steam from the Bowater Scott paper factory not far away.  In the early hours of the morning I often heard the clip clop of the milkmans horse as it trotted down the road, the milkman grabbing pint bottles from the cart and collecting the emptys left out in the milk boxes in the front of each yard.   The postman came twice each day and blew his whistle when he put something in the letterbox.   There were the songs of crickets in summer and the laughter of kookaburras and warbles of Magpies. 

I will write more because there  is way too much to put in this simple snapshot.

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17 Comments

  1. Romany Angel said,

    February 28, 2009 at 7:49 am

    I absolutely LOVED this post Loz and could relate to so much of it. What wonderfu carefree days they were. I grew up in one of the roughest suburbs of Adelaide (though that wasn’t the case at the time) and I had the most idyllic, happiest childhood I could ever imagine.Great pics. Thanks Loz, I really enjoyed reading that.Recent blog post: Putting the “fun” into funeral

  2. Jackie said,

    February 28, 2009 at 3:00 pm

    What a wonderful share Loz. I so enjoyed learning more about you and your family. The pictures are great and look much like mine do when I was about the same age. I too relate more to the 70’s and also the 80’s. I hope you are enjoying what is left of your weekend over there. It’s early Saturday for us.Hugs,Jackie:-)

  3. Hope said,

    February 28, 2009 at 4:42 pm

    I liked hearing about your childhood. It sounds like it was pretty wonderful.Recent blog post: Monkey spanking

  4. suZen said,

    February 28, 2009 at 6:00 pm

    How interesting to share childhood experiences – and the pictures are great! We all have such different experiences. Each life, a story. Thanks for sharing yours! Hope you’ll have part two next.suZenRecent blog post: Expressing Yourself (or the only Job you were born with)

  5. Loz said,

    March 1, 2009 at 1:42 am

    If childhood is the first 12 years of our lives how come looking back it seemed to last 50 years?Recent blog post: Childhood Memories – For my Sisters

  6. Loz said,

    March 1, 2009 at 1:43 am

    Jackie I think anyone who grew up as a baby boomer would have pictures like these taken on a Kodak instamatic and slowly fading with time.Recent blog post: Childhood Memories – For my Sisters

  7. Loz said,

    March 1, 2009 at 1:44 am

    Hope – I was lucky and as I get older realise how lucky I really wasRecent blog post: Childhood Memories – For my Sisters

  8. Loz said,

    March 1, 2009 at 1:46 am

    SuZen – You are right and in each picture a whole chapter lies waiting to unfold. I will write more.Recent blog post: Childhood Memories – For my Sisters

  9. josie2shoes said,

    March 1, 2009 at 9:14 am

    Ahhh, you and Terri have made me so nostalgic for those magically innocent days of childhood. Life was indeed so simple then. Isn’t it amazing how clearly we remember the details decades later? I wish that we could pop back and visit for a moment now and then!

  10. Loz said,

    March 1, 2009 at 9:51 am

    I go back all the time Josie. Sometimes too often.Recent blog post: Choose being kind over being right

  11. Lindasphere said,

    March 1, 2009 at 10:59 am

    So, you sure you did not live in the same house as me? Those photos are so much like my childhood ones. Oh, the outdoor toilet. I am sure my stomach problems started in those days. I used to dread the toilet trip. I think things were lovely and simple then. But maybe that is because it is childhood. Recent blog post: Already It Is March

  12. Andrew said,

    March 1, 2009 at 11:08 am

    Our close friends who we have known for thirty years live in Wellard Road and have for as long as we have known them. We must have driven along Richardson Street hundreds of times. We even looked once at buying the contemporary house at the end of Richardson Street in Roberts Avenue. The world is a small place. Just back from visiting the friends.Recent blog post: Bad Highriser

  13. Loz said,

    March 1, 2009 at 11:14 am

    Linda – I’m sure I would have remembered you :)Recent blog post: Choose being kind over being right

  14. Loz said,

    March 1, 2009 at 11:16 am

    We lived at number 10 Andrew which is on the corner of Richardson and Massey Streets. Mum and Dad sold it around 15 years ago and moved in with my sister in Warrandyte. Part of me mourned on the day they moved out.Recent blog post: Choose being kind over being right

  15. terri said,

    March 2, 2009 at 12:28 am

    What a beautiful memoir! You painted such a descriptive picture of your youth, I could almost feel myself there. I loved this! Has Rolling seen it yet? If not, give her a heads-up that you’ve done it. She’ll love this.Recent blog post: Get Blogged by Terri – Blog Harbor

  16. Blur ting said,

    March 2, 2009 at 12:29 am

    Wow, I enjoyed this flashback thoroughly.

  17. Trisha said,

    March 2, 2009 at 9:56 am

    Hey, hi, can’t stop smiling its ear to ear, tell Terri got you at last, thanks for pinging, and while it has for me been like watching a movie and living ur old times with you, it is so graphic, I cd actually see, hear and smell it all and the photos were a great idea, your pop looks like a darling pop…and what makes me happier is that I can see you enjoyed it! just like I had enjoyed writing mine and reading yours and Terri’s and that friend from Phillipines…yes it does seem like 50 years in measure it s such huge impact on our lives, and please do continue, and ping me so I know and can come and read. what did you think of mine? nice to get to know you and thanks for doing the TAG and sharing, (hope you like me too) ;)am being formal? regards.Recent blog post: explanations that I think are due to you


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