Picnics

While reading over at Jelly's about their Disco Dance party, I was reminded of when our children were young.

We loved having picnics. We would pack our picnic fare, & off we would go, to some riverbank, or park or even to visit friends who lived on a farm.

I pinched this pic from the Internet. It seemed to represent everything romantic & enticing about picnics. The checkered cloth the basket, the goodies in plenteous array. The thermos flasks of hot coffee, cold lemonade.



It doesn't depict the oftentimes reality of picnics in the open. The sandflies at the River bank, the glaring sun, the sprinting off to catch a child about to leap into the river! The ants trying to share the food, the sand if we were at the beach. The proximity of dog droppings or the waft of pigs, at the farm, if the wind changed direction.

The rashes from too much sun, sandfly bites, or grass allergy. Ah the 'free treats'.

Of course there really were 'free treats'. The children invariably had fun, & the friendly games of tennis ball cricket would amuse.

Until my head, aka as the Ball Magnet, collected a ball in the face!



Because we lived in an inner city hotel, we didn't have lawns or a garden, so a picnic was a great chance to get out in the fresh air.

We would hire a big van, & a whole bunch of us would go down to Ashburton to the races, on Boxing Day. A country Race meeting, trots (Harness?) if I recall. It was usually very hot, & we had a designated driver.

The first year we did the group thing, we took our cars, & I was the driver, for our little group. Needless to say the others were all the worse for wear at the end of the day. Our children loved these days, & as we were the only ones who had children, they were always made a great fuss of, & grew to be very good conversationalists, with adults.

Gom, who was HYPH -Happy Young Publican Husband- in those days, let our daughter mix the drinks for everyone, one year. We found out that she had been adding a 'little of everthing' to the drinks. No wonder there were some very sore heads, & some slumbering passengers on the way home!


On other picnic occasions,we would pack our picnic fare, & off we would go, to some riverbank, or park or even to visit friends who lived on a farm, where we would sit out in the paddock!

I think this particular picnic, was a Barbeque, & it was early Spring, which can be rather cold. Friend D was cooking the meat, & we tried to find a sheltered spot out of the wind.

The quality of these grainy old photos is very poor. They have been in an Album with the sticky pages, & the plastic covers, & I suspect the film was not very good either.

Perhaps our favourite picnics were the ones we had at home. On the lounge room floor.

I would prepare all the the usual suspects in the way of food & drink, & we would spread out a cloth or rug, & sit on the floor, & pretend the grey skies outside did not exist. We could even have the gas heater going, when it was really cold, or even snowing.

We were lucky enough to have a huge lounge, & it was easy to pretend we were not at home. We would play music, & games, & always had a lot of fun.

We liked to play board games, or I Spy- pity I didn't make quilts in those days.

When we lived in that Hotel, I made what we called Filled Rolls for the bars every day. These were long bullet shaped rolls, & I would fill them with salad & various meats. I would have a whole bench full of rolls waiting to be filled, & would go flat out to get them all ready.

I then wrapped them in cling film & HYPH would take them downstairs to the bars, while I would take the children to school. Of course I made the children some for lunch, while I was making the Bar fare.

Occasionally I would buy savouries & little cakes or treats, go & collect the children from school, & we would go to a park, & have a little picnic lunch, before I would take them back to school.

Once one of my daughter's teachers told me her mouth watered every time she saw my daughter's lunch. She was shocked one day when DJ was buying a pie. It turned out DJ had sneaked her pocket money out to buy a pie! Hence Pie buying one day a week ensued, as well as the little picnics for variety.

Brambles have Thorns, as well as Fruit!

When I was young, one of the treats of our lives was Blackberry Jam, & Blackberry Pies. Our Grandmother would make the most delicious blackberry jam, which tasted so lovely in the winter months when it was cold & nary a berry could be found. It was like a little sliver of the Summer's heat & fullness, when the country was still, & bare, & cold. And berryless!

That rich, luscious, full flavour, somehow seemed to embody the full richness of bountiful summer days, with plenteous warmth, humidity, & languid, lazy days to be filled with pleasure. Such as can only be experienced, or perhaps enjoyed, as a child, without care or responsibilities.

We had several varieties of Berries we could plunder at will, with no ownership or 'private' rights to deter us. They grew wild & free, & were there for the taking, if we could only be bothered to gather them.

Blackberry was a weed in New Zealand. It was reviled by the diligent farmer, & cleared from his land.

Luckily for us, there were pockets of land where the owners of the land had neither the time nor the inclination to kill off the Brambles. Nor did they care who chose to avail themselves of the wondrous crops. And our mother would load us into the car, with buckets, & pans, & off she would drive, up winding, dusty, country gravel roads, in search of thick patches of the blackberries. Growing in thick tangles among the patches of Bracken ferns.

And we would climb the ricketty old fence, always at a post, as we had been taught, & proceed to pick the beautiful ripe, full, berries. And they always seemed so fat, & juicy, & just wonderful!

And there were often the slightly, larger & redder-hued, berries growing among all the blackberries, & these we took to be Boysenberries, but whether or not they were true Boysenberries, to this day, I am not sure. But they were equally delicious & we gathered as many as we could, before fatigue, or our mother's pleas for respite, would call a halt to the day's gatherings.

And of course there were extremely hot, humid days, when we would whine & complain, & yelp in terror, at the stabs of the thorns, bloody & painful, & wish to be home again. And our mother would grimly return to the car, vowing never to take us out again!

But of course, once our Grandmother had made the jam, pies, & Blackberry or Boysenberry jelly or jam, we would beg to be taken again, & promise, in the hollow way of children, to be 'good this time' & not 'whine or complain'.

And our Aunt & Uncle lived on the side of a valley, carved over many years by the river, which wound sluggishly down in the very bottom of the valley. On the banks below the boundary fence, of our Uncle & Aunt's property, there grew a wonderful light red berry we called a Wineberry. And the thorns, or prickles, on these vines were very mild, & hardly scratched at all. And very rarely drew blood.

So when the crop was ripe, we would eagerly climb the fence, & clinging to the steep sides of the bank, spend an afternoon, gather the lovely delicate red berries, to be made into Wineberry Jelly, or Apple & Wineberry Jam. And sometimes into pies.

Or, when the crop was large, they could be rinsed, & sprinkled lightly with sugar, & just enjoyed 'au naturale', with a little fresh cream added. The bliss of those memories! And the wonderful colours of the berries. And that lovely memory of Summer, when the jams or pies were tasted in the Winter months.

We forgot the whining, of heat, & bramble's sharp stabs, & just savoured those wonderful rich Summer tastes, fillled with memories.

Chris Isaak, Sweet Leilani.

"Toothache"

This rather threatening pic was taken last evening, after the feathery clouds. This was about 6pm. I am not sure why I like it, but I do. This morning has dawned clear & totally cloudless. Lovely & crisp without being too cold.

I have been thinking about the events, that, in our family, we call 'toothaches'. They are things we have witnessed or done, that come back to haunt us, & can often be the cause of anguished regret.

I am sure everyone has some of them, in their life. Sometimes quite small occasions, that just niggle at the edge of the memory, just like an ongoing tooth ache.

I have a small one from High School. I had a friend, M, with the same Christian name as mine, & we were always together, always sat together in classes, & spent all our luch breaks etc, together. We thought we were pretty smart, ~ she was good at maths, I was hopeless, so any questions directed our way, by the teacher were answered by M. And any questions directed our way, concerning English & poetry, were answered by me.

We had nicknames for all the teachers- I guess that is usual. We had lockers where we kept our books & during the dash between classes, we would go to the lockers, & get out the next required class books.

The 'toothache' occurred at the lockers. We were both crouched down, laughing about one of the teachers, & I made the comment that she was 'insipid'. A voice behind me, said loudly, "She might think you are insipid too!" I was shocked. It was the English Mistress, -not the one we had been criticising, but it made me stop & think carefully about criticism, & how much it might hurt someone. I am not sure why it has remained a toothache, but I have never forgotten it. I guess it was a valuable lesson.

There are other toothaches, which my daughter & I talk about. Some are my personal ones, & there are some that are family aches. I have one from when my brother came to stay with me, BC -before children. I was, in fact vastly pregnant & GOM was still the Happy Young Husband. One evening I made some dessert or other- have forgotten what it was. But there was whipped cream to go with it, & my brother was enjoying it hugely, & dived in for more. I snapped at him to "leave some for HYH". His face fell & he finished his dessert quietly. The toothache comes from the fact that later, when HYH came home, he didnt even bother with dessert. A stupid little thing, but it has stayed with me forever. My brother probably doesnt even remember it. I asked him once, but he said he had forgotten.

Once, while on holiday, we witnessed a result of an accident. When I say a result, we had heard a screech of brakes, & heard a thud, & when we looked there was a man lying in the road. He had apparently been hit by the car, & he was sprawled out with his arms flung ahead of him. And there, by one hand, was a hamburger, with one bite taken from it. I can still see it. Somehow it made it seem worse. And no, I dont know if he was alright, as he was still on the ground, appearing to be unconscious, when we hastened away, not wanting to join the crowd of ghouls.

And when I told our children that story, they wished I hadnt, & my daughter tells me it is still a 'toothache' in her memory.

Most of my toothaches involve my family or friends. I dont let them engulf me, but from time to time, they stab me in the memory, just like the root of a tooth dying.

When my children were young, one of their favourite books was "Frog & Toad are Friends". We all loved that book, & I would read it repeatedly to them, until they learnt to read it themselves. My 'toothaches' remind me a little of that book.


I will go away & shake myself I think! I seem to have got a little glum here, & it was not what I intended.
***************


In my last post, there is a comment from Henri, who is my Beloved Brother, & he mentions the " Cyrils". That is what BFJ & I used to call the 'duds' who came courting, or the ones who didnt turn out to be what they seemed.



BFJ & I used to go dancing. We would rather go dancing that go to the movies with a boy, some times. And quite often we would be asked by a partner if they could 'take us home.' Looking back, it was quite a risk I suppose, but times were different, & most men were basically just looking for a girlfriend. We met a lot of very nice men, dancing. One of our girlfriends met her future husband at a dance. We were lucky really, because young ones these days only seem to have Pubs or Clubs to meet other young ones.

Inevitably, we would strike the 'Cyrils'. The ones who smelt funny, or the ones who tried to 'take liberties'. Or the ones who had seemed sober & nice, but must have sneaked outside to drink, to get 'courage', & they would be positively drunk, by the time it was time to leave. Then we would make hasty changes to plans.

One night BFJ agreed to go home with a 'Cyril.' She said he seemed nice, they duly went to supper together, then returned to dance some more. She said, then she suddenly noticed he had all this thick hair sprouting from the top of his shirt collar! Above his neat tie. She couldnt take her eyes off it, it mesmerized her! She decided he must be some sort of werewolf, & so she suddenly 'discovered' that she had forgotten she had agreed to go home with me.

We both had our share of Cyrils. And BFJ used to often stay at our place, & we would have my mother in fits of laughter describing our 'adventures'.

Ah those memories make me smile!

This looks like fun- courtesy of JOKE.

This is courtesy of joke & I think perhaps via Poppy.
1960's Greatest Hits.
It had more to the beginning which I thought I had published, but it didn't post. Go to the website given on joke's post, you will see what I mean.
I am still singing some of these songs,- & so are my kids!

BFJ will remember the first one in paticular!! ha ha!
We were pretty damn good at the twist- 22" waists to prove it!!

1.The Twist - Chubby Checker

2.Beyond The Sea - Bobby Darin

3.Are You Lonesome Tonight? - Elvis Presley

4. Wild One - Bobby Rydell

5.Volare - Bobby Rydell

6.I'm Sorry - Brenda Lee

7.Money (That's What I Want) - Barrett Strong

8.This Magic Moment - the Drifters

9.It's Now Or Never - Elvis Presley

10. Wonderful World - Sam Cooke


11. You're Sixteen - Johnny Burnette

12. Cathy's Clown - the Everly Brothers

13.Georgia On My Mind - Ray Charles

14.Only The Lonely - Roy Orbison

15. Hot Rod Lincoln - Johnny Bond

16. Tell Laura I Love Her - Ray Peterson

17. Harbor Lights - the Platters

18. Shimmy Shimmy Ko-Ko-Bop - Little Anthony & the Imperials

19. Chain Gang - Sam Cooke

20. Save The Last Dance For Me - the Drifters

21Stuck On You - Elvis Presley

22.Where Or When - Dion & The Belmonts


23. Teen Angel - Mark Dinning -This was a sickening song!!

24.Devil Or Angel - Bobby Vee

25.Stay - Maurice Williams and the Zodiaks

26. Swingin' School - Bobby Rydell

27. Finger Poppin' Time - Hank Ballard & The Midnighters

28.Sweet Nothin's - Brenda Lee

29. Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polkadot Bikini - Brian Hylan - I LOATHED THIS SONG!!

30. Poetry In Motion - Johnny Tillotson

31. Last Date - Floyd Cramer

32. Baby (You've Got What It Takes) - Dinah Washington & Brook Benton

33. Let's Go, Let's Go, Let's Go - Hank Ballard & The Midnighters

34.Puppy Love - Paul Anka

35. When Will I Be Loved? - the Everly Brothers

36.Walk, Don't Run - the Ventures

37.Mama - Connie Francis

38. Theme From "A Summer Place" - Percy Faith How could I?? but I loved it!

39. Running Bear - Johnny Preston

40. Alley-Oop - Hollywood Argyles

That seems to be the end of the list!! I have to laugh at some of the old memories.
Thanks for the trip down memory lane!!

Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts...

Think Happy Thoughts!

These lovely pics were taken by Nice Neighbour, of their beautiful orchid. When it flowers, it perfumes the whole neighbourhood with the smell of vanilla!
I asked if NN had some pics, so she obligingly provided me with these.

I find I have mixed feelings about orchids- there is something vaguely sinister about the look of this one, but the perfume is nice, so I am not sure what I find disquieting about them. Mr & Mrs NN seem to have the magic touch with plants, including the orchids.

One of my wishes, when I was a child, was to learn the piano. Of course, we didnt have a piano, nor was there space for one,- nor could my mother have afforded one, or the lessons. But that didnt stop my childish heart from yearning to learn.

I used to spend weekends at a girlfriend's house, & they had a piano. My girlfriend had no desire to learn, though she had had some lessons, & was somewhat of a Tomboy, in that all she cared about was cars. She had 3 older brothers, & an older married sister. She was by way of being 'an afterthought' as my mother used to say.

Her mother was a lovely woman, with a wonderful sense of humour, & we had some great times, laughing. Her father was a strangely silent man, who had a skin condition- something like excema, which was probably caused, or exacerbated, by the fact that he worked in the Dairy Factory. I am not sure what he did, but I know he was a very clever man, & I suspect he was something to do with getting the balance of the cheese correct. He was a Scientific Mr Big at the factory.

As we got older, my girlfriend's mother was frequently away, nursing her ill mother, & so my girlfriend & I virtually 'ran wild' at the weekends. Dear old Mr C would retreat into his world of itching, & reading, & we would play loud music, & dance about in the lounge, & my friend would study her brother's books about cars.

Girlfriend's father owned an old Morris Oxford - I think it was. Not a car person, & was never really 'into' them the way my girlfriend was. My girlfriend could drive, & I am not sure how she learnt, but suppose one of her brothers taught her when he was home. One of her older brothers had been killed in Korea, another lived in Australia, & her nearest brother seemed to be away a great deal, doing what, I am not sure.

He got his pilot's license, & I remember he took us for a flight over the Mt Maunganui area, once, in a small Piper plane, to help get his hours up for becoming a commercial pilot. He owned a motorbike, & was speed mad, as was my girlfriend.

When we got to be about 15, my girlfriend used to sneak her father's car down the rather steep driveway, & then we would push the car down the road, & she would start it, & off we would go! I think the first time she did it, I was terrified. I kept expecting the police to stop us, or her to crash the thing. She drove fairly well, considering, & we never did come to grief.

As the driveway was so steep, we had no chance of pushing the heavy old car back up again, so she would roar up the driveway, on our return, & roar into the garage. I dont know if her father ever knew, but reason would seem to say he must have! Or else he was totally deaf! Nothing was ever said though, so she continued to do it, when she dared.

I was a relatively 'good' child, as far as school went, & didnt truant -until my final year of High School, & that was only in Study periods, when about 6 of us used to cycle off to a river & swim in the lovely cool water during the steamy, sleepy, heat-laden, lazy, summer afternoons. I can still remember the smell of the grass, and the smell of the river, with the tall basket willows on the banks. And the smell of the bracken, tangled & tall. It would be so golden & hot, & we always wished we could just sleep, lying in the long grasses, after our swim. Of course we had to return to put in an appearance before the school day finished. And then get all hot again, cycling home from school!

My friend of the car-knapping, was an out-of-school friend. Not sure why, but it just seemed to work out that way. She was never in my class, -apart from our first year at school- & so we just didnt spend time together at school. On some of our nighttime excursions she would speed down shingle roads to the beach, & we would swim in the ocean in our underclothes! Even in those days, we seemed to be reluctant to strip off, though it was usually just the two of us.

We are probably lucky we didnt drown, as it was a somewhat wild ocean beach, with a heavy undertow in places. I look back now, & think we are probably lucky to still be alive! I dont know if her mother knew the half of what we got up to, while she was away nursing her mother, but she never said anything to us. Nor did her father, who was probably just glad we fed him, & left him in peace with his books & his itch.

My friend never did very well at school, and I suppose largely 'wasted' her education, as far as academic achievments go. But she became a nurse, & later the Matron of a Hospital, & is now a very High Poo Bah in a Hospital Board.

She always had a wonderful, generous warm heart, & would give a friend anything, unconditionally.

She married a wonderful man, & had 2 lovely children, & now has 4 wonderful grandchildren

And yes, she is still my 'buddy'!