The huge tree in the centre of the pic is a huge old Gum tree. I am glad it is not close to our house!It seems the post yesterday about the old Button tins/jars/etc, stirred lots of memories in everyone..
My Grandmother had an amazing memory for things & she could tell a story about almost any button I chose to ask about. I loved the old leather buttons, off men's coats. And I still have a beautiful carved old mother-of-pearl button, that I treasure. And now I have my mother's button tin also, so have a lot of memories in there, too.
Something I think about often these days, is being a teenager.
Oh those angst ridden years! I wouldn't want to relive those years for any thing in the world.
The terrible anxiety when you were about 11- or in some girls cases, only 9 or 10. Will I grow breasts? What if mine dont grow? How will I know when they are growing? How will I be able to tell if they wont grow?
Then the awful embarrassment when they did start to 'sprout.' Oh how can I hide them. Dont they look silly, poking out through my cotton dress. "I need to wear a cardigan, NO I am not hot! "
Then there were the hours spent in front of the mirror, looking at your hair. Why isnt my hair straight/curly/wavy/blonde/dark/red, like my best friend. All the boys love her -why cant I look like she does.
Trying out different hairstyles, deciding in my case, to grow my hair long, so I could tie it up, or do it in the 'French Roll' that was the fashion in the day.
And then there was all the anxiety about boys. How to know when they were not just pulling your leg? How to talk to them without blushing -a terrible deep red that just wouldnt go away.
Oh no, I wouldnt wish to relive those years, I definitely would not!
I dont know whether I feel the young ones these days have it easier, or harder. I sometimes think they are grown too soon these days. But there are some things I think they are luckier about. There are not so many 'secrets', they can talk about just about anything, if their parents are approachable. I think young mothers have it harder in some respects.
For teenage girls, the passage is not easy. I suffered from terrible menstrual cramps, & would bleed so heavily, my uniform would be soaked on arrival home. I was a pretty 'mean' character at times when I was about 16, & I suppose I suffered from PMT. But of course in those days it was never talked about, nor dealt with, the way it can be today.
I am sure it was just as painful for teenage boys too. Suffering from all sorts of insecurities, & sometimes terrible acne. Which must have been really painful & was often disfiguring, & yet I found myself quite often attracted to boys who had scars, or 'interestingly ugly' faces.
The absolutely most handsome boys, were the big Maori lads, whose beautiful satiny brown skin & good looks were irresistable to most of the girls in our classes. And they seemed not become victims of acne the same way the Pakeha lads did. Or perhaps we didnt notice.
I was rather lucky with my teenagers growing up. I had a few 'steaming love dances' as we used to call them, now & then. But on the whole they were not badly behaved kids, & we feel we got through very well. They used to bring their friends home to our place, to spend time, & stay often, & they would all gather on a Saturday evening or afternoon at our place. We had a large house, & a lovely pool then, so we were fortunate to be able to welcome those kids.
My brother & I couldnt really have friends home like that. Our Grandmother's house was very small, & she was past wanting noisy loud kids, rip roaring about. But I think it made both my brother & I determined to let our kids have all the friends they wanted, home to visit. And my brother's boys have friends who regard their parents as almost second parents.
And in GOM's case his mother made all comers welcome, so he always had friends to play & stay also.
I have had a very nice day. I got taken, unexpectedly, out to lunch! It was lovely & now I need to have a little siesta, perhaps. Too many nice things to eat!
