By The Banks Of The Belabula
Without Prejudice
Of all the places I ever lived as a child, I think I liked Canowindra the most. Just a sleepy hot town below Cowra in NSW. Violently hot in summer and freezing cold mornings in Winter.. The kids from the Catholic Orphanage had chilblains on the back of their heels in winter and school sores around their mouths in Summer. They mainly looked miserable, most of the time.
I have no idea how we came to live there, we had come from the Northern beaches of Sydney, Avalon and Newport to this tiny dinky town. I think Dad was setting up a dealership for Triumph cars in the town, which now seems fantastically idiotic of him, but I believe they were on consignment. He was always trying something new, Dad. He was funny and optimistic and a bit of a shyster.
We lived behind a cafe, when we were first there. Mum ran the cafe and milk bar and did hot roast dinners on a Sunday and fish and chips other days. I always remember the ice cold milk in stainless steel canisters under the counter and the heavy syrups in jars. Lime, chocolate and raspberry. Dry powdery malt that clung to your tongue and was delicious on ice cream and topping with chopped nuts.
There were lollies of every variety, milk bottles , sherbets, mates,, chocolate covered caramels that could rip your fillings out. Spearmint leaves and love hearts and sherbet dips with licorice straws, strawberries and creams and raspberries. I crept out of bed early one morning and filled a white paper bag full of these colourful delights and was sprung by my brother Ian who gave me a good clout for my efforts and took them off me.
I still love kids lollies.
Dad also had a panel beating business along one of the back streets and Ian worked part time for him and sometimes for Mum at the cafe as well. He went to Cowra High School and was a Dux of the School. He was so above the rest of us in age and was remote and withdrawn, most of the time. Jamie our other brother died, he had been a year younger than Ian and died at 11.
We were an oddity in that town. So many of us, 5 kids, Mum and Dad and a cat. The cat would sleep in the front window of the cafe and a girl at school told me that a lot of people had seen it there and wouldn't buy there as we were "dirty" and "poor". That is the first time I heard we were "poor". I thought the kids at the orphanage were poor, not us. I was truly surprised.
We moved to a Commission house of powder blue in a shitty part of town that was all commission houses. Fibro walls with holes punched in them and dirty light switches. Mum was not big on housework nor cooking, in fact she was terrible at both, no wonder the cafe didn't do that well. Jackie and I as ever shared a room and Dad decided it was that bad that he would spray paint it. Battleship grey, was rank, really rank, Jackie and I felt like we were in a tomb.
We had few possessions or toys, we went outside to play with the neighbourhood kids. At least they were just as big a ragamuffins as we were. I can never remember owning a dress, ever until I was older. I just ran around in bathers and not much else. Mum did make Jackie give me a dress once, candy pink and white stripe but it was like a circus tent on me so I didn't have to wear it.
Jackie was 4 years older than me and heavy set. She walloped all the bullies at the schools that picked on George and David and Me. One boy she sat on and he bellowed like a stuck bull, bawling his eyes out and red faced. Fancy being beaten by a girl. He never bullied us again after that and we were glad. We had a clothes line out the back that Mum hung the ducks and chooks on to bleed after Ian cut their heads off. A grisly business.
The grass was spindly, hot and dry and the only thing of beauty in the whole place was a wet spot under the tap at the side of the house. There mint and violets grew. I loved the smell of the mint crushed under foot and the violet flowers that smelled so sweet and moist. The rest of the yard was just yard, all scrabbly rocks and dirt with a little bit of grass around.
It must have needing mowing though because I remember my Dad screaming in agony when the mower gashed his toe. Don't ask me how ? Dad was a born klutz and had no reason the be out on that scrubby lawn with no shoes on. He was a perfectionist in so many ways, mainly his music and his work but around the house he was no handyman.
I will always remember him being funny though. As he mowed the lawn he would tie a hankie four cornered style and plonk it on his fair Scottish head. Wearing just an undershirt and shorts as he mowed. Mum was always in a bad mood and we kept out of her way for the most part, she could be a vixen when in a high dudgeon and that was often.
I remember Dad being chased by an out of control Catherine Wheel on Bonfire night. He hadn't fixed it properly to the fence and it took off after him across the lawn. We laughed until we cried that night at my hapless Dad haring around as the onfire Catherine Wheel chased him.
He was so funny and was so peed off at our laughing. I can only remember one time in my life having a row with him in Canowindra. I was 8 and he made us have salt tablets before Swimming Races and I baulked at having them one day and he made me take them. Forced me to have them and I was livid. They were enormous horse pill things and I hated taking them. They were supposed to give us energy which was rubbish as they didn't and ever after that we were allowed to have glucose pills instead.
To Be continued
Of all the places I ever lived as a child, I think I liked Canowindra the most. Just a sleepy hot town below Cowra in NSW. Violently hot in summer and freezing cold mornings in Winter.. The kids from the Catholic Orphanage had chilblains on the back of their heels in winter and school sores around their mouths in Summer. They mainly looked miserable, most of the time.
I have no idea how we came to live there, we had come from the Northern beaches of Sydney, Avalon and Newport to this tiny dinky town. I think Dad was setting up a dealership for Triumph cars in the town, which now seems fantastically idiotic of him, but I believe they were on consignment. He was always trying something new, Dad. He was funny and optimistic and a bit of a shyster.
We lived behind a cafe, when we were first there. Mum ran the cafe and milk bar and did hot roast dinners on a Sunday and fish and chips other days. I always remember the ice cold milk in stainless steel canisters under the counter and the heavy syrups in jars. Lime, chocolate and raspberry. Dry powdery malt that clung to your tongue and was delicious on ice cream and topping with chopped nuts.
There were lollies of every variety, milk bottles , sherbets, mates,, chocolate covered caramels that could rip your fillings out. Spearmint leaves and love hearts and sherbet dips with licorice straws, strawberries and creams and raspberries. I crept out of bed early one morning and filled a white paper bag full of these colourful delights and was sprung by my brother Ian who gave me a good clout for my efforts and took them off me.
I still love kids lollies.
Dad also had a panel beating business along one of the back streets and Ian worked part time for him and sometimes for Mum at the cafe as well. He went to Cowra High School and was a Dux of the School. He was so above the rest of us in age and was remote and withdrawn, most of the time. Jamie our other brother died, he had been a year younger than Ian and died at 11.
We were an oddity in that town. So many of us, 5 kids, Mum and Dad and a cat. The cat would sleep in the front window of the cafe and a girl at school told me that a lot of people had seen it there and wouldn't buy there as we were "dirty" and "poor". That is the first time I heard we were "poor". I thought the kids at the orphanage were poor, not us. I was truly surprised.
We moved to a Commission house of powder blue in a shitty part of town that was all commission houses. Fibro walls with holes punched in them and dirty light switches. Mum was not big on housework nor cooking, in fact she was terrible at both, no wonder the cafe didn't do that well. Jackie and I as ever shared a room and Dad decided it was that bad that he would spray paint it. Battleship grey, was rank, really rank, Jackie and I felt like we were in a tomb.
We had few possessions or toys, we went outside to play with the neighbourhood kids. At least they were just as big a ragamuffins as we were. I can never remember owning a dress, ever until I was older. I just ran around in bathers and not much else. Mum did make Jackie give me a dress once, candy pink and white stripe but it was like a circus tent on me so I didn't have to wear it.
Jackie was 4 years older than me and heavy set. She walloped all the bullies at the schools that picked on George and David and Me. One boy she sat on and he bellowed like a stuck bull, bawling his eyes out and red faced. Fancy being beaten by a girl. He never bullied us again after that and we were glad. We had a clothes line out the back that Mum hung the ducks and chooks on to bleed after Ian cut their heads off. A grisly business.
The grass was spindly, hot and dry and the only thing of beauty in the whole place was a wet spot under the tap at the side of the house. There mint and violets grew. I loved the smell of the mint crushed under foot and the violet flowers that smelled so sweet and moist. The rest of the yard was just yard, all scrabbly rocks and dirt with a little bit of grass around.
It must have needing mowing though because I remember my Dad screaming in agony when the mower gashed his toe. Don't ask me how ? Dad was a born klutz and had no reason the be out on that scrubby lawn with no shoes on. He was a perfectionist in so many ways, mainly his music and his work but around the house he was no handyman.
I will always remember him being funny though. As he mowed the lawn he would tie a hankie four cornered style and plonk it on his fair Scottish head. Wearing just an undershirt and shorts as he mowed. Mum was always in a bad mood and we kept out of her way for the most part, she could be a vixen when in a high dudgeon and that was often.
I remember Dad being chased by an out of control Catherine Wheel on Bonfire night. He hadn't fixed it properly to the fence and it took off after him across the lawn. We laughed until we cried that night at my hapless Dad haring around as the onfire Catherine Wheel chased him.
He was so funny and was so peed off at our laughing. I can only remember one time in my life having a row with him in Canowindra. I was 8 and he made us have salt tablets before Swimming Races and I baulked at having them one day and he made me take them. Forced me to have them and I was livid. They were enormous horse pill things and I hated taking them. They were supposed to give us energy which was rubbish as they didn't and ever after that we were allowed to have glucose pills instead.
To Be continued
