Flowers- Avalon Beach
Without Prejudice
One of the worst schools we ever went to was in Sydney, near Avalon. One of the most divine places in the world to live and one of the most expensive.
We were poor kids and brainy and it was a rotten combination. We were outsiders from day one, and the bullies gave us the biggest scares of our lives.
The whole school felt uncomfortable and I have never hated a place as much.
The girls in their cliquey groups played a game called Flowers under the trees on the oval. The boys just mainly ran around.
The game " flowers" consisted of an entire house laid out on the ground and packed up every day. Rooms picked out with twigs and stones and inside would be proper little kitchens, made from all sorts of tiny things.
A tomato sauce bottle cap becoming a kettle, with holes punched in the top, so a piece of string or wire could be passed through it. Then it had a tiny handle so it could be hung over a tiny fire made from sticks and red scrunched up cellophane tucked inside.
Shiny milk bottle caps were dinner plates and tiny toy knives and forks. I looked on with longing, dying to be invited to be play but never was.
When you are unpopular like that you end up just trying not to look too needy. Every day milk bottles were handed out to us, only small, but often had been sitting in the sun a while.
I had never liked milk, and this was vile with a thick collar of cream at the top, So I was unusual again as my Mother had to write a note about me not having any. Well I was only going to bring it up.
I liked some of the boys though, one in particular, who was cute and ran after me. Meeting up at the School Carnival one night with both sets of parents. And all us kids playing kiss chasy in the dark.
He at least made things interesting as he was in my class and as ever we tried to out beat each other to the top.Answering the most questions, hands flying up in the air.
The bullies were awful though and they mainly targeted George and George was a tough nut but was no match for three of them. Jackie, me and Dave pounced on them one day.
One had George pinned to the ground, and another was on top of him. Jackie got him off and sat on him till he wailed. David and I hitting out with our school bags until they ran off and we had no bother after that.
Every day we climbed a torturous hill to home, wooded and rain forest with homes hidden down long sloping driveways, Exclusive homes, one had Winifred Attwell living in it and when we finally reached home all at different times there would be nothing to eat.
Nothing, maybe if we were lucky dry oats and sugar or raw potato, (we liked that) I can remember Mum chain smoking and looking vague but not much else.
Once I went to a friends house and we had snacks of Sao biscuits, cheese and chutney. I was amazed and went there often not getting home till later and getting in trouble. Mum was a terrible cook, except for her Steak and Kidney pie which was great.
She always said you were either good at pastry or cakes but never both. B's mum said the same. Our Mum wasn't much good at either so we learned to make our own strange concoctions when hunger made us crazy.
We made a sort of shortbread and tablet or fudge, or sandwiches of sauce if there was bread. Struggling with the bread knife and a full uncut loaf.
I can't remember having salad, vegies especially were revolting. I packed up to leave home rather than eat Mum's cabbage. Big slabs of it mainly the leaves, and I would not eat it and packed my little case and left the house.
I couldn't believe they let me walk out the door and sobbed in rage. I walked as far as the end of the street and turned around and headed home.
The darkness and the dogs barking scaring me in to a little bit of a jog. The family never commented when I came back in the door, but I did notice my sweets were there and the offending cabbage was gone.
Round one to me!
We didn't stay there for long and moved to Canowindra and I was never more glad of anything in my life. That school was just awful and I have no idea why but Jackie told me they were all snobs and us little scruffs were brainier than them. Sheer jealousy she said. I would have been 6 or so
At Canowindra, there were no games of flowers, it was all ball games and swimming or cubby houses, monkey bars and the feeling of blisters on your hands, that popped and were sore.
We'd wait about a week until they healed and start all over again. In the meantime we'd swing upside down.
And for hours we practiced out Handies with the tennis balls, having twelve distinct ways of accuracy with a ball, against the wall once, twice while you clapped, right up to twelve, and hopscotch and skipping races.
When we went to Wentworthville it was twin ropes turned alternatively and the skill we worked on was being able to get through the double ropes. One girl at one end and one at the other. The ropes heavy duty ones from the sports room. If they struck you at speed it was a harsh feeling.
But we did it for months, practicing at home and for a while it was our whole lives, Jackie and I getting better and better and once inside the twin turning ropes, had to jump or hop on one leg.
Or pick up stones, bending over all the while jumping between the two ropes.
It was fantastic for our co ordination and balance and fitness and I probably could still do it now if I was outside the two ropes. must ask Jackie next time, we should definitely attempt it.
I guess part of me wanted to be the tough fit tomboy and part of me wanted to play house.
More fun being the tomboy but a deep sense of fulfilment comes with having a shiny home.
So I go put my sauce bottle top, kettle on and have a cuppa,
And this song is for all the "outsiders" that stood on the side lines and weren't invited to play
Love Janette
One of the worst schools we ever went to was in Sydney, near Avalon. One of the most divine places in the world to live and one of the most expensive.
We were poor kids and brainy and it was a rotten combination. We were outsiders from day one, and the bullies gave us the biggest scares of our lives.
The whole school felt uncomfortable and I have never hated a place as much.
The girls in their cliquey groups played a game called Flowers under the trees on the oval. The boys just mainly ran around.
The game " flowers" consisted of an entire house laid out on the ground and packed up every day. Rooms picked out with twigs and stones and inside would be proper little kitchens, made from all sorts of tiny things.
A tomato sauce bottle cap becoming a kettle, with holes punched in the top, so a piece of string or wire could be passed through it. Then it had a tiny handle so it could be hung over a tiny fire made from sticks and red scrunched up cellophane tucked inside.
Shiny milk bottle caps were dinner plates and tiny toy knives and forks. I looked on with longing, dying to be invited to be play but never was.
When you are unpopular like that you end up just trying not to look too needy. Every day milk bottles were handed out to us, only small, but often had been sitting in the sun a while.
I had never liked milk, and this was vile with a thick collar of cream at the top, So I was unusual again as my Mother had to write a note about me not having any. Well I was only going to bring it up.
I liked some of the boys though, one in particular, who was cute and ran after me. Meeting up at the School Carnival one night with both sets of parents. And all us kids playing kiss chasy in the dark.
He at least made things interesting as he was in my class and as ever we tried to out beat each other to the top.Answering the most questions, hands flying up in the air.
The bullies were awful though and they mainly targeted George and George was a tough nut but was no match for three of them. Jackie, me and Dave pounced on them one day.
One had George pinned to the ground, and another was on top of him. Jackie got him off and sat on him till he wailed. David and I hitting out with our school bags until they ran off and we had no bother after that.
Every day we climbed a torturous hill to home, wooded and rain forest with homes hidden down long sloping driveways, Exclusive homes, one had Winifred Attwell living in it and when we finally reached home all at different times there would be nothing to eat.
Nothing, maybe if we were lucky dry oats and sugar or raw potato, (we liked that) I can remember Mum chain smoking and looking vague but not much else.
Once I went to a friends house and we had snacks of Sao biscuits, cheese and chutney. I was amazed and went there often not getting home till later and getting in trouble. Mum was a terrible cook, except for her Steak and Kidney pie which was great.
She always said you were either good at pastry or cakes but never both. B's mum said the same. Our Mum wasn't much good at either so we learned to make our own strange concoctions when hunger made us crazy.
We made a sort of shortbread and tablet or fudge, or sandwiches of sauce if there was bread. Struggling with the bread knife and a full uncut loaf.
I can't remember having salad, vegies especially were revolting. I packed up to leave home rather than eat Mum's cabbage. Big slabs of it mainly the leaves, and I would not eat it and packed my little case and left the house.
I couldn't believe they let me walk out the door and sobbed in rage. I walked as far as the end of the street and turned around and headed home.
The darkness and the dogs barking scaring me in to a little bit of a jog. The family never commented when I came back in the door, but I did notice my sweets were there and the offending cabbage was gone.
Round one to me!
We didn't stay there for long and moved to Canowindra and I was never more glad of anything in my life. That school was just awful and I have no idea why but Jackie told me they were all snobs and us little scruffs were brainier than them. Sheer jealousy she said. I would have been 6 or so
At Canowindra, there were no games of flowers, it was all ball games and swimming or cubby houses, monkey bars and the feeling of blisters on your hands, that popped and were sore.
We'd wait about a week until they healed and start all over again. In the meantime we'd swing upside down.
And for hours we practiced out Handies with the tennis balls, having twelve distinct ways of accuracy with a ball, against the wall once, twice while you clapped, right up to twelve, and hopscotch and skipping races.
When we went to Wentworthville it was twin ropes turned alternatively and the skill we worked on was being able to get through the double ropes. One girl at one end and one at the other. The ropes heavy duty ones from the sports room. If they struck you at speed it was a harsh feeling.
But we did it for months, practicing at home and for a while it was our whole lives, Jackie and I getting better and better and once inside the twin turning ropes, had to jump or hop on one leg.
Or pick up stones, bending over all the while jumping between the two ropes.
It was fantastic for our co ordination and balance and fitness and I probably could still do it now if I was outside the two ropes. must ask Jackie next time, we should definitely attempt it.
I guess part of me wanted to be the tough fit tomboy and part of me wanted to play house.
More fun being the tomboy but a deep sense of fulfilment comes with having a shiny home.
So I go put my sauce bottle top, kettle on and have a cuppa,
And this song is for all the "outsiders" that stood on the side lines and weren't invited to play
Love Janette
