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 |   The simplicity of my day to day. |
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This is where I write my thoughts, feelings and my daily trials, tribulations and happy things
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Prompt for
The most difficult time in my life were the first years after emigrating from England in 1972. We knew no one here in Australia and we were a little family of three. Just John and I and our three year old. Within a year we were a family of five after having twins. This was my darkest time, having no family to call on. Our daughter missed home so much she stopped talking and one of the twins never stopped crying. How I survived those years I’ll never know. |
Prompt for
I definitely didn’t like school. At all! I think the trouble all began on day one. This was in England 1948. Think a dark Victorian austere building, classes of forty children. And little me, the youngest in the class. Aged just four years old. There was no a gradual introduction, No. Full days straight away. 9am until 4pm. We were given chalk and a slate! And I was so shy. I didn’t want to leave my mummy! Really the remainder of my school years are a blur now. I remember bad things, bad teachers and nothing else. I left school on my fifteenth birthday thinking I was dumb. So what I learned from my time there? Nothing! |
Prompt for
I’ve already done this. My husband and I emigrated from England to Australia fifty years ago. We had one child with us, our daughter, Sarah, who was just three years old at the time. We chose Australia because of the weather, it’s as simple as that. We were quite successful at the time of making that decision. We were 28 years old and had two businesses, our own home and lived next door to my parents. It was such an adventure though. We hardly had time to reconsider before our application to reside in Australia was accepted. It was a move we didn’t really regret but there was a lot of homesickness in the first year. I think maybe if we had our time again we may have gone to live in the Eastern States instead of Perth in the West. Western Australia is so isolated,in fact Perth is the most isolated city in the world. It has had its advantages though especially in the Covid pandemic. |
Prompt for
My saddest memory was when our youngest daughter, Emma, gave birth to a stillborn baby boy, Jack. Emma was only twenty years old and the death of the full term baby caused her to suffer depression and anxiety and alcoholism, from which she still suffers 28 years later. |
Prompt for
Having two big brothers was nice when I was little. As a family we were always nice to each other as far as I can remember. Growing up in England in the 40’s and 50’s was a time of peace after the war. Although rationing was still in force, and many things were scarce, we never went hungry. My mother was a great homemaker and my memory of childhood is of being loved. We lived in many different houses during my childhood, although all within ten miles of each other. We were pig and chicken farmers for a few years and then after that, shopkeepers, running a local corner store. |
Prompt for
It’s a little difficult to select just one thing I’d change from my childhood because there are many. I’ll try to put them in some sort of order. 1. I wish my baby sister hadn’t died when she was a few days old. 2. I wish my mother hadn’t had mental health issues caused by the baby’s death. 3. I wish my father hadn’t been absent in WW2 for six years. 4. I wish I’d had my teeth straightened. |
Prompt for
Oh my goodness this hits home, especially lately. I have always been told that I don’t look my age. “How can you be a Grandmother ? “ That was when I was 42 years old. “ How can you possibly be a great-grandmother? “ That was 14 years ago at 63 years of age. I think I’ve been so used to people not thinking I’m the age I am, that now the years have caught eventually caught up, 78 now, I feel old for the first time. The reflection in the mirror tells the truth. That is hard to come to terms with, but also it tells me I’ve lived a life. A life that has been packed with family dramas, love, laughter, illnesses, pain and whatever else life throws at you. How else can all that not draw lines upon my face. It’s been a process but I’m starting to accept those lines, even if secretly hating every one of those that appear overnight, despite the cream I spread across the skin in a failed attempt at defeating them. |
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