for me it was living on a couple achers , riding motor bikes n horses, working out in
the yard, now theres none of that, also we could go away for the day and leave our house unlocked no problems, you cant today..

-- Edited by milo on Tuesday 19th of July 2011 12:19:02 AM

I know what you mean - the country life is the best. After my Mum divorced, she applied for a job as a cook on a large cattle station, eventually re-married, and that's where I ended up growing up. I can remember one day my cousins and I accompanied the men out to the back of the property to do some fencing. We were various ages, from 8 - 12, so my step-uncle drove the old Bedford truck out loaded up with wire, steel posts, wooden strainers and some of us kids, and my step-father drove the Toyota out with the rest of us on board. We played more than helped for most of the day, and when it came time to come home, we begged the men to let us kids drive the old Bedford home. We had all grown up in the country, all of us knew how to drive, and we were on private property anyway, so eventually whingeing and whining won out, and we were given the key with strict instructions to take it easy. Now the thing is, the Bedford most often didn't have brakes! Sometimes they could be pumped up, but most of the time, they didn't work! Well, we were like pigs in muck - and we had such a great time getting that beautiful old truck home.
Well, there were 5 gates between where we'd been fencing and home, so every time we lumbered up to a gate, one of us kids had to jump off the back of the truck to open the gate while the driver circled the truck until they could drive it through! Then they'd circle it on the other side until the gate was shut and the kid could jump back on, and away we went again! Mum cracked a real mental when we got home and found out what the men had let us do, but in hindsight, what a ride! lol

Riding an old WW11 Harley Davidson along the beach between Mosman and Port Douglas it was easier than the road especially during the wet. When the vehicles couldn't get through Dad and I would ride the horses . My best trip ever was from Port Douglas to the tip to pick up an old Tiger Moth that had a fuel problem and was forced down on one of the many sandy beaches in the area, we carted fuel in in 4 gallon tins and cleaned out the fuel system turned the horses lose and dad flew it back to Carins , I could fly a plane and navigate before I could get a car licence Back then to go to the tip was barely a track through the bush and you lived off the land out out of the ocean depending on the time of the year it could take several weeks to get there

That's right Granny - overprotection doesn't do us any favours most of the time. Because I work at a primary school, most of the time the kids who hurt themselves (and just have a small scratch that only really needs a dust off and a "You'll be right") would prefer to simply get up and walk away too, but things being the way they are now with rules and regulations, duty of care, AND lawsuits, we HAVE to follow it through with a thorough and proper clean up, sometimes parent notification depending on the circumstances, and recording in a book. Amazing how the world changes.

Wombat and Helena, the good old days hey! Wombat, just reading about your exploits on the Harley with your Dad reminded me of another incident on our property, and again with the same cousins! (Gees, we got up to some stuff! lol) A creek ran past our old homestead, and littered along the top of a section of very steep banks were various rusting relics of days gone by. One of them was an old post-war motorbike. You know the type - heavy as all get out and straight handlebars. One day, when the adults were all busy, us kids were looking for something to do - read looking for some mischief to get into! We decided to go for a walk along the creek, and came across the old motorbike laying on it side. To us kids, it was like finding a huge nugget of gold. Between us all, we heaved it up into a standing position, and to our surprise and excitement, we found that, while everything was rusted, the wheels still turned around. Yep, you guessed it, someone decided it would be fun for one of us to climb on board and the rest of us would push the bike off the steep bank! For the next few hours, that's what we did - all of taking turns in riding it down the bank, and then helping to push the blessed thing back up to the top of the bank again. How at least one of didn't hurt ourselves that day, I don't know! If we'd fallen off on our downward journey at any time and the bike had fallen on top of us, we'd have been seriously hurt at the very least. But you just don't think of things like that happening when you're a kid, do you?

Milk shakes . Fish and chips wrapped in newspaper .

 

The first wrapped icecreams . They were made by Peters . Vanilla icecream coated in chocolate , wrapped in silver & green paper , and were called " chocolate coated icecreams " . No stick to hold them , just icecream and paper . After a year or so you got a small , flat stick to use as a spoon .

Billy carts 

rabbit traps 

 slug guns 

wash boards

long-drop toilets

fresh milk and fresh cream

cream seperators

butter churns

Coolgardie safes

ice chests

coppers ( for boiling water ) .

 

Memories , and more memories . . . . . . Yes Romy , I remember twin pats .

 

-- Edited by sandsmere on Tuesday 19th of July 2011 08:14:01 AM

My most memorable memory ?

Being kicked up the arse by the cops and taken home to Mum for another belt 

 

Worked wonders for me

A typical weekend day ...

Push bikes & shangi's .. off for the day in the scrub .. short rides on any horses we came across (rope halter) ... cook up birds for lunch .. swim in river  .. mud fights .. pinch whatever fruit was in season .. look out for saltpetre from shotguns ...

 

Jobs  ..

Deliver bulk milk in two local streets weekdays early AM

Sell papers at local Railway Workshops after school weekdays (100 in 15min) Count pennies & reconcile with papers sold.

 

Sat Morning milk run till lunch.  (then off to hockey)

On the way home, play kelly pool with 'drunks' after their pub session (good money)

Late Saturday paper run around a couple of suburbs, on pushbike of course.  Rolled up papers in cut down sugar bag pouches across frame & another attached by strong wire rods into the upturned handle bars.  Had to roll the papers with rubber bands before starting.  Throw them onto the roof of those we didn't like

 

Occasionally take bike & half axe up the railway spur line into bush & get clothes props to sell round the neighbourhood.  Sometimes set a few bird traps to catch double bars and finches.

 

Delivered ice for a bit .. filling in for a mate ... squares of bag over hands instead of gloves.  Boss had large tonges

 Collect all the beer bottles around the neighbourhood, in a push cart.  Sell back to local pub.  The butcher & corner shop paid for bundles of newspapers too.

Jobs at home ..

Help Dad saw logs with double ended cross cut saw (still got it too)

Chop wood, large, middle or second wood, and chips.  Keep wood boxes full.  (still got the old axe too & several scars across the left hand where I missed).

Cut grass with reaping hook.

Water vege garden (bloody squashes & silver beet mainly - that I hated)

Feed the chooks .. help kill & dress the c o c k rels on special occasions.

 

Better stop there least I bore you.  The more I write the more memories come back.

( I have a small notebook that I write up with memories, as the mood takes me)

-- Edited by Cupie on Tuesday 19th of July 2011 02:35:18 PM

-- Edited by Cupie on Tuesday 19th of July 2011 02:38:28 PM

Keep them coming! I don't think any of us will ever be bored with reading about all our memories. I know I won't be bored, because I can associate with many of them and it brings back even more memories for me. They were indeed the good old days - really! That's not to say that we can't have any special memories attached to our lives today, but back then, the pace of life was definitely slower, and sometimes I think the simple things of life have been largely forgotten.

I can also remember shaving my Mum's legs with an old-fashioned, proper whisker brush and soap and razor, for 2 bob - which I would then go and spend on a BIG (and I mean B-I-G) bag of lollies! lol

I can remember getting the frypan cord around my legs, Cupie!

Before we headed out into the country to live, I was about 7 years old, and when the carnival and sideshows were in town one year, I was told that I was not to wander into the showgrounds under any circumstances, but to come straight home from school every afternoon. Of course, it was too much of a temptation, I did wander in one afternoon, and I did cop the frypan cord when I eventually got home. I don't know why I didn't think Mum would twig. She knew how long it took me to walk home from school, but as I said before, kids don't think of that sort of thing at the time! I only stayed for about half an hour, but as I was walking home, I remember thinking that I would probably get a hiding when I got home. Sure enough Mum was waiting behind the door. As soon as I walked in, Whack, Whack, around the legs. It hurt at the time, but I never was tempted again while they were in town! lol I understood the danger when I grew up, but at the time . . .

I'll be away from the computer for the next 3 days, but please everyone, continue our trip down memory lane. It all makes such great reading!

-- Edited by Romy5152 on Tuesday 19th of July 2011 06:29:08 PM

We were kids on a farm about 16 miles from town, so travelled by school bus for an hour each morning and each afternoon. I remember when we were young, the road was corrugated and the old bone-shaker would rattle along, then when the road was eventually sealed we were able to have a conversation. Our whole social life was on that bus!

The weather could be pretty extreme out Finley way, and while riding our bikes to meet the bus, we had to put up with dark early mornings, frosts, or rain, then in the afternoons it could be so hot in summer. Todays little darlings get driven to school in air-conditioned vehicles!

The mailman would deliver our bread to our bus stop, and it was our job to bring it home with us... often it arrived partly eaten.

Re the baker and the milkman - my brother did his baking apprenticeship in our small (then) Mornington Peninsula (Vic) town - another brother was a butcher, another a pastry cook - the baker bought fresh bread home every morning for us - sometimes brown and whit emixed together and formed into elephants and ducks - the milko used to come and we would go our with our billy to fill it - the iceman just came in the back door and put ice in your icebox on the back porch, and the local grocer used to deliver - he was our cousin, and he sometimes even put it away for mum.

But some places and kids these days still do old fashioned things - my grandsons are fishing mad, and they have been going to a local creek, on a local property, to fish since Christmas, the fish have been washed out of our local dam, and now can't get back, so they are congregating in and around the small weirs on the creek. The boys are 11 and 13, and are pretty responsible when fishing, the owner of the property checks on them, and they sometimes ask him if he wants one of the large bass they catch - sometimes he joins them on the bank, and they clean a fish, light a fire and cook it for lunch.

They are having a ball, learning a lot, and staying out of trouble (they release most of the fish they catch - just occasionally take one home).

Hi Jules, I know what you mean. The world doesn't always revolve around x boxes and computer games - although I must admit, I loved to play Nintendo 64 Mario Kart with my son and daughter when they were young! I always used to come last in the races of course, but I still loved to play it! However, I think a lot of fun can still be had outside the home - as your grandsons are. There's something about being out in the bush that really soothes the soul. Most of the time it's very quiet, and you can really relax and drink in the beauty of it all. I'm a bush girl at heart and always will be.

Blues family did. They were related to the McQueens that lived there for donkeys years