George And David
Without Prejudice
In my childhood my two brothers, closest in age, to me were my best friends. Jackie, my sister was 4 years older than me and as neat and as shiny as a new pin. Ian, my oldest brother was 8 years older and a loner, pretty much. So it fell to us youngest three to pal up together and take on the rest of the family. I was a tomboy until about ten, anyway and growing up with boys seemed the natural way to go.
They were tough on me, the boys, David being younger was easy but George could be difficult. He was thrown out of Nursery School at the Hostel. I was a good little girl that did as she was told and whined a lot. I always apparently had wet drawers and was known as "Wet Nette" or just Nette Nette. I was a skinny scrawny little thing, ultra sensitive and shy. Painfully so. But growing up with the boys toughened me up. Males give no quarter when it comes to females. They expect you to be tough, not cry and hugely competitive.
Jackie stayed in the house with Mum and I was either swimming, playing or reading. The boys in shorts only and no tee shirts would get up to mischief and I would follow. If they were up a tree, I was up a tree. We played cowboys and Indians endlessly. George or David had a Davy Crockett hat and I prayed hard to get an Annie Oakley outfit for Christmas, aged 5. And Got it ! I loved that outfit, leather waistcoat and tan skirt with hat, and a gun holster with two six shooters that exploded tiny caps of a roll of paper and made proper shooting noise and smelt like sulphur.
George started running writing before I went to school and I was so jealous, I got Mum to teach me and I could read and write well before I went to school. When I was put up to Grade 1 after half a year of prep, it was strike one to me. Mum and Dad were so proud they went out and bought me a toy kitchen, with proper little working taps that you could run water through.
David had been born while we were in the Hostel, our first little Ozzie ! I may have this wrong but I think we were in the hostel for close to two years. I know I was about 4 when we moved to Port Augusta.
My very first recollection, ever, was the bus ride to the hostel. I can remember it as clear as day and I would have been two and 3 months. I remember nothing of the long boat journey from Scotland to Adelaide. I know now, my parents were ten pound poms and we came over to Australia with lots of other English people who were also heading for the hostels. I know they had made the decision to leave behind family and friends and their birthplaces, ( Mum from Wakefield in Yorkshire) and Dad (Born Glasgow, but lived mainly in Edinburgh, where George and I and Ian And James had been born. My parents were told Ian had very bad Catarrh and needed a warmer climate. So they sailed with their 5 children to the great unknown.
I heard of the family tales of the boys winning the fancy dress on the boat, The SS OTRANTO, December 1954. Mum had dressed them in their kilts and had made three sashes for their chests, one that said, Scots, another that said, Porridge and the last one that said Oats. And they won and George in excitement scaled one of the flag poles and showed everyone what real scotsmen wear under their kilts.
That is all I know of the boat trip, Adelaide was my first recollection looking out of the bus window and knowing something very significant had happened. Maybe my parents were saying to all of us, "Look, this is your new country, your new home" and I remember looking out the bus window and being dazzled, literally dazzled at the sun and light and busyness of the place and being very, very happy. It is a happiness that still thrills me at visiting new places, meeting new people, it's like being given a great present that you just can't wait to unwrap. However in the last few years I have discovered I hate flying and hate it more each time, so I don't think (unless they find another way) that I will be taking off overseas again anytime soon.
The Hostel was an eye opener, the accommodation was a Nissan Hut for us, baking hot in Summer and freezing in winter. One bare light bulb decorated the ceiling. It was primitive accommodation at best but we did have some English friends staying there which made it more welcoming. There were however other nationalities there too who were not so welcoming. Hungarians and Germans and Poles and a lot of them fought and had knives. My parents kept us away from any drama but I know that Ian was involved a little in the fights.
Mum worked and Jackie would drop George and I off at Nursery School, on her way to primary school. I would dawdle and hang back as I hated being without my Mother.To me, the other kids did dumb things like swing all day in the heat. George especially did and I can remember him getting in trouble because he wouldn't get off the swings and let someone else have a turn. He was loud and rebellious and obnoxious and he was booted out unceremoniously soon after.
I was a good little girl, who kept her mouth shut at least and was allowed to stay. I hated it, absolutely hated it. They showed me dumb books with pictures, they gave me Milk Arrowroot biscuits for morning tea with an Orange Juice drink. They expected me to wee on a potty and I was toilet trained. There were furious meetings with my Mother and the staff about that. And I hated the afternoon nap where we would lie on mattresses and all the other kids would sleep. I however would lie there twitching. Bored, hot,
In my childhood my two brothers, closest in age, to me were my best friends. Jackie, my sister was 4 years older than me and as neat and as shiny as a new pin. Ian, my oldest brother was 8 years older and a loner, pretty much. So it fell to us youngest three to pal up together and take on the rest of the family. I was a tomboy until about ten, anyway and growing up with boys seemed the natural way to go.
They were tough on me, the boys, David being younger was easy but George could be difficult. He was thrown out of Nursery School at the Hostel. I was a good little girl that did as she was told and whined a lot. I always apparently had wet drawers and was known as "Wet Nette" or just Nette Nette. I was a skinny scrawny little thing, ultra sensitive and shy. Painfully so. But growing up with the boys toughened me up. Males give no quarter when it comes to females. They expect you to be tough, not cry and hugely competitive.
Jackie stayed in the house with Mum and I was either swimming, playing or reading. The boys in shorts only and no tee shirts would get up to mischief and I would follow. If they were up a tree, I was up a tree. We played cowboys and Indians endlessly. George or David had a Davy Crockett hat and I prayed hard to get an Annie Oakley outfit for Christmas, aged 5. And Got it ! I loved that outfit, leather waistcoat and tan skirt with hat, and a gun holster with two six shooters that exploded tiny caps of a roll of paper and made proper shooting noise and smelt like sulphur.
George started running writing before I went to school and I was so jealous, I got Mum to teach me and I could read and write well before I went to school. When I was put up to Grade 1 after half a year of prep, it was strike one to me. Mum and Dad were so proud they went out and bought me a toy kitchen, with proper little working taps that you could run water through.
David had been born while we were in the Hostel, our first little Ozzie ! I may have this wrong but I think we were in the hostel for close to two years. I know I was about 4 when we moved to Port Augusta.
My very first recollection, ever, was the bus ride to the hostel. I can remember it as clear as day and I would have been two and 3 months. I remember nothing of the long boat journey from Scotland to Adelaide. I know now, my parents were ten pound poms and we came over to Australia with lots of other English people who were also heading for the hostels. I know they had made the decision to leave behind family and friends and their birthplaces, ( Mum from Wakefield in Yorkshire) and Dad (Born Glasgow, but lived mainly in Edinburgh, where George and I and Ian And James had been born. My parents were told Ian had very bad Catarrh and needed a warmer climate. So they sailed with their 5 children to the great unknown.
I heard of the family tales of the boys winning the fancy dress on the boat, The SS OTRANTO, December 1954. Mum had dressed them in their kilts and had made three sashes for their chests, one that said, Scots, another that said, Porridge and the last one that said Oats. And they won and George in excitement scaled one of the flag poles and showed everyone what real scotsmen wear under their kilts.
That is all I know of the boat trip, Adelaide was my first recollection looking out of the bus window and knowing something very significant had happened. Maybe my parents were saying to all of us, "Look, this is your new country, your new home" and I remember looking out the bus window and being dazzled, literally dazzled at the sun and light and busyness of the place and being very, very happy. It is a happiness that still thrills me at visiting new places, meeting new people, it's like being given a great present that you just can't wait to unwrap. However in the last few years I have discovered I hate flying and hate it more each time, so I don't think (unless they find another way) that I will be taking off overseas again anytime soon.
The Hostel was an eye opener, the accommodation was a Nissan Hut for us, baking hot in Summer and freezing in winter. One bare light bulb decorated the ceiling. It was primitive accommodation at best but we did have some English friends staying there which made it more welcoming. There were however other nationalities there too who were not so welcoming. Hungarians and Germans and Poles and a lot of them fought and had knives. My parents kept us away from any drama but I know that Ian was involved a little in the fights.
Mum worked and Jackie would drop George and I off at Nursery School, on her way to primary school. I would dawdle and hang back as I hated being without my Mother.To me, the other kids did dumb things like swing all day in the heat. George especially did and I can remember him getting in trouble because he wouldn't get off the swings and let someone else have a turn. He was loud and rebellious and obnoxious and he was booted out unceremoniously soon after.
I was a good little girl, who kept her mouth shut at least and was allowed to stay. I hated it, absolutely hated it. They showed me dumb books with pictures, they gave me Milk Arrowroot biscuits for morning tea with an Orange Juice drink. They expected me to wee on a potty and I was toilet trained. There were furious meetings with my Mother and the staff about that. And I hated the afternoon nap where we would lie on mattresses and all the other kids would sleep. I however would lie there twitching. Bored, hot,
