It's been a long, long time!
Sep 8th 2005, 1:30 pm
#151
BE Forum Addict
Joined: May 2005
Location: Bunbury WA
Posts: 1,844
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Originally Posted by TheCrone
And after that, wouldn't you think I'd know better than to enter into any shared business relationship with M.? I should have done; but the hostel was 18 months behind us. The Q'land roadhouse had seen us with very different activities, me in the kitchen, M. in the service station and workshop - and he was always happy when he had some sort of machinery to work on. And I still had hope that 'this time' would be better.
But there was nothing like that at the guesthouse; life was a constant round of cooking, washing and cleaning. It wasn't that he couldn't do those things, he was as competent as I. But why should he, when he didn't enjoy it and I was there to do it anyway? He was always there in the evenings though, to play Mine Host. He charmed all the ladies - he was VERY good at that! - and would sit around drinking with the men, telling them tall tales of his Kimberley adventures while I was in the kitchen up to my elbows in soapy water and dirty pots. He made a lot of snooker-playing mates in the various pubs, went out on Jack's boat most weekends and up the coast fishing with another friend he'd made. He seemed surprised and angry when I told him that under no circumstances would I sign the lease when it came up for renewal after a year.
Jane had settled in even better than I'd hoped. She was doing very well in school and had become part of the 'in group', who shared lots of weekend activities. ML seemed happy too. She enjoyed school and there were several children living nearby to play with after school hours. It seemed that I was the only miserable, unhappy one!
I've always been convinced that if you don't like your life, an opportunity will come for you to change it. You may have to wait a while and the change isn't always for the better - but at least it'll be different! So it was now; I found a job and a house to rent and presented M. with his alternatives. He could come with us and find himself a job; he could take over the lease - and the work - on his own; or he could b****r off - and I wasn't fussy which one he chose!
But there was nothing like that at the guesthouse; life was a constant round of cooking, washing and cleaning. It wasn't that he couldn't do those things, he was as competent as I. But why should he, when he didn't enjoy it and I was there to do it anyway? He was always there in the evenings though, to play Mine Host. He charmed all the ladies - he was VERY good at that! - and would sit around drinking with the men, telling them tall tales of his Kimberley adventures while I was in the kitchen up to my elbows in soapy water and dirty pots. He made a lot of snooker-playing mates in the various pubs, went out on Jack's boat most weekends and up the coast fishing with another friend he'd made. He seemed surprised and angry when I told him that under no circumstances would I sign the lease when it came up for renewal after a year.
Jane had settled in even better than I'd hoped. She was doing very well in school and had become part of the 'in group', who shared lots of weekend activities. ML seemed happy too. She enjoyed school and there were several children living nearby to play with after school hours. It seemed that I was the only miserable, unhappy one!
I've always been convinced that if you don't like your life, an opportunity will come for you to change it. You may have to wait a while and the change isn't always for the better - but at least it'll be different! So it was now; I found a job and a house to rent and presented M. with his alternatives. He could come with us and find himself a job; he could take over the lease - and the work - on his own; or he could b****r off - and I wasn't fussy which one he chose!
Sep 9th 2005, 4:53 pm
#152
been there........
Thread Starter
Joined: Jan 2005
Location: Perth, WA
Posts: 349
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Life became more 'normal' after that. For the first time since coming to Australia, I wasn't working weekends. And I was doing office work, again something I hadn't done for almost 10 years.
The days were very long; the job was at Texada Mines at Lake McLeod, some 50 k's outside Carnarvon, where salt was mined. An 8 - 5 working day meant leaving home at 6.45 each morning and returning at 6.15pm, though all the women office-workers were picked up and dropped off at homeand transported by an air-conditioned company car. This meant that I had to rely heavily on Jane to supervise ML in the mornings, get her off to school and look after her when school finished. Given the alternatives, M. had decided to come with us. But rather than getting a 'proper' job, he'd taken over an almost defunct second-hand shop. He built up quite a thriving business repairing fridges, washing-machines, air-conditioners, anything electrical. But the shop was next door to a pub and whenever he was paid, he's close up, go next door and the money would go over the counter; we saw none of it. And from my point of view, he developed another very nasty habit! He couldn't resist making money. I'd leave for work in the morning with a perfectly good white lounge suite in the sitting-room; I'd come home at night to find it transmuted into a blue sofa and 3 grren chairs. He rgarded everything in the house as 'stock'; books, records, kitchen equipment, stereo equipment - you name it, he'd sell it! You know the Yorkshire saying "What's thine's mine an' what's mine's mi own"? This became his personal motto. And the drinking grew heavier and heavier. I don't think he'd have passed a breathalyser test at any time of the day or night throughout the whole year.
By May, Jane was studying very hard for her University Entrance exams. She set her own time-table; from Sunday to Thursday she spent a minimum of 4 hours a night on homework and revision. I really admired her perseverance and dedication. She told me one day that her class had been asked to fill in forms stating which University they wanted to attend and which course they wanted to follow. Then she dropped a bombshell!
"You've been very crafty, Ma, and don't think I haven't noticed! You've always talked about WHEN I go to Uni, WHEN I get my degree - it's never been 'IF' I did! There's a new Uni opening in Perth next year and they have a hundred places for mature-age students. I think YOU should go to University and YOU should get a degree!"
The days were very long; the job was at Texada Mines at Lake McLeod, some 50 k's outside Carnarvon, where salt was mined. An 8 - 5 working day meant leaving home at 6.45 each morning and returning at 6.15pm, though all the women office-workers were picked up and dropped off at homeand transported by an air-conditioned company car. This meant that I had to rely heavily on Jane to supervise ML in the mornings, get her off to school and look after her when school finished. Given the alternatives, M. had decided to come with us. But rather than getting a 'proper' job, he'd taken over an almost defunct second-hand shop. He built up quite a thriving business repairing fridges, washing-machines, air-conditioners, anything electrical. But the shop was next door to a pub and whenever he was paid, he's close up, go next door and the money would go over the counter; we saw none of it. And from my point of view, he developed another very nasty habit! He couldn't resist making money. I'd leave for work in the morning with a perfectly good white lounge suite in the sitting-room; I'd come home at night to find it transmuted into a blue sofa and 3 grren chairs. He rgarded everything in the house as 'stock'; books, records, kitchen equipment, stereo equipment - you name it, he'd sell it! You know the Yorkshire saying "What's thine's mine an' what's mine's mi own"? This became his personal motto. And the drinking grew heavier and heavier. I don't think he'd have passed a breathalyser test at any time of the day or night throughout the whole year.
By May, Jane was studying very hard for her University Entrance exams. She set her own time-table; from Sunday to Thursday she spent a minimum of 4 hours a night on homework and revision. I really admired her perseverance and dedication. She told me one day that her class had been asked to fill in forms stating which University they wanted to attend and which course they wanted to follow. Then she dropped a bombshell!
"You've been very crafty, Ma, and don't think I haven't noticed! You've always talked about WHEN I go to Uni, WHEN I get my degree - it's never been 'IF' I did! There's a new Uni opening in Perth next year and they have a hundred places for mature-age students. I think YOU should go to University and YOU should get a degree!"
Sep 9th 2005, 6:30 pm
#153
BE Enthusiast
Joined: Aug 2005
Location: was Bradford then poole dorset then Sydney,Forster, Kanwal,Gosford,and now Erina
Posts: 788
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Originally Posted by TheCrone
I wrote earlier than Halls Creek seemed like a frontier town. Perhaps this will illustrate what I mean.
One Friday evening, a prisoner escaped from the jail in Broome. He stole a car and headed north. By lunchtime on Saturday, he had reached Fitzroy Crossing and, being short of petrol, needed to refuel; he'd found the $300 which the owner had stashed in the glove box, so paying for it wasn't a problem.
The petrol bowsers were operated by the man who owned the town's only store and, like most Kimberley businesses at that time, everything closed for the afternoon siesta from 1pm to 4pm. To pass the time, the ex-con decided to have a beer.
In the bar was the town's only policeman, relaxing on his day off. A conversation began and the two played pool until the store re-opened. The car refueled, our convict headed north again, while the copper stayed on until early evening, when he knew there would be a meal ready for him at home. It wasn't until this was finished that he decide to turn on the station's radio for the evening schedule from Derby police and it was only then that he realised who his pool opponent had been. He also learned that there were two unlicenced rifles hidden under the car's back seat.
(At this time, the telephone exchange in Fitzroy closed from Fri. night till Monday morning, while the Halls Creek exchange shut down at lunchtime on Saturday.)
With persistence, he managed to reach the police in Halls Creek to tell them that the escapee was headed for the town; we had two policemen stationed then, a Constable and a Senior Constable. ( I understand that there are now 16 police stationed in the town.............)
So Chris and Dave sprang into action. Just inside the town boundary, 5 kms outside the township proper, across the wide dirt road, they placed four brightly-painted but empty 44-gallon drums, linked by planks. And they waited...........
Around midnight, they heard the car and saw the headlights, so they stepped out into the road waving their torches. To no avail; thedriver simply swerved the vehicle around the obstacles and headed into town. By the time the barrier had been dismantled, they were well behind their wanted man, but soon found traces of him. He'd broken the lock on a set of petrol pumps and the car was standing on the petrol station forecourt. There was no sign, however, of the fugitive, but obviously, he was now on foot. And if he hoped to get away, he needed another vehicle.
And here's where it got really interesting!
The police woke the local magistrate, Joe, and agreed that every vehicle in town should be disabled. So every householder was woken ; I think it was around 1.30am when they got to us. It was also decided that the town should be thoroughly searched. Headquarters for this would be at Joe's place, so certain vehicles were designated as temporary police vehicles. These were packed with the town's men-folk, most of whom were armed; and since Joe owned the local bottle shop, each vehicle contained at least one carton of beer!
It was on for man and beast, then! Armed with only a baseball bat, I stood ready to protect the children in my charge, while preparing to serve coffee to the mob when they'd done what they had to do. I could hear vehicles roaring around the town and frequent gunshots, but no-one came to let me know what was going on. It was almost 6am when people began to trickle into the hostel's dining room.
Yes, they'd been succesful and the escapee was now back in police custody. It seemed that eventually he'd gone to ground by burrowing into a huge pile of gravel at the airstrip; he wasn't aware, however, that he'd been seen by some of the aboriginal people who lived near by; he was an Italian, not one of their own people and it was they who'd told the police where to find him.
The pile of gravel was surrounded by the men and Dave, the Senior Constable, called on him to give himself up. He sprang out of the heap wielding a knife, which he'd picked up on his travels around the place, and he began waving this at Dave. Dave was taunting him, "Come on, you mongrel, think you can take me, etc, etc" . And while he kept the man's attention, Constable Chris, all 6ft 6 inches and 20 stone of him, wearing Bush boots of heavy leather which laced up to the knees, got behind him. And planted a kick right where it hurt most, so that the man went one way, the knife another..........
Did I mention earlier that any reason served as an excuse for a party? This was a day-long humdinger!
One Friday evening, a prisoner escaped from the jail in Broome. He stole a car and headed north. By lunchtime on Saturday, he had reached Fitzroy Crossing and, being short of petrol, needed to refuel; he'd found the $300 which the owner had stashed in the glove box, so paying for it wasn't a problem.
The petrol bowsers were operated by the man who owned the town's only store and, like most Kimberley businesses at that time, everything closed for the afternoon siesta from 1pm to 4pm. To pass the time, the ex-con decided to have a beer.
In the bar was the town's only policeman, relaxing on his day off. A conversation began and the two played pool until the store re-opened. The car refueled, our convict headed north again, while the copper stayed on until early evening, when he knew there would be a meal ready for him at home. It wasn't until this was finished that he decide to turn on the station's radio for the evening schedule from Derby police and it was only then that he realised who his pool opponent had been. He also learned that there were two unlicenced rifles hidden under the car's back seat.
(At this time, the telephone exchange in Fitzroy closed from Fri. night till Monday morning, while the Halls Creek exchange shut down at lunchtime on Saturday.)
With persistence, he managed to reach the police in Halls Creek to tell them that the escapee was headed for the town; we had two policemen stationed then, a Constable and a Senior Constable. ( I understand that there are now 16 police stationed in the town.............)
So Chris and Dave sprang into action. Just inside the town boundary, 5 kms outside the township proper, across the wide dirt road, they placed four brightly-painted but empty 44-gallon drums, linked by planks. And they waited...........
Around midnight, they heard the car and saw the headlights, so they stepped out into the road waving their torches. To no avail; thedriver simply swerved the vehicle around the obstacles and headed into town. By the time the barrier had been dismantled, they were well behind their wanted man, but soon found traces of him. He'd broken the lock on a set of petrol pumps and the car was standing on the petrol station forecourt. There was no sign, however, of the fugitive, but obviously, he was now on foot. And if he hoped to get away, he needed another vehicle.
And here's where it got really interesting!
The police woke the local magistrate, Joe, and agreed that every vehicle in town should be disabled. So every householder was woken ; I think it was around 1.30am when they got to us. It was also decided that the town should be thoroughly searched. Headquarters for this would be at Joe's place, so certain vehicles were designated as temporary police vehicles. These were packed with the town's men-folk, most of whom were armed; and since Joe owned the local bottle shop, each vehicle contained at least one carton of beer!
It was on for man and beast, then! Armed with only a baseball bat, I stood ready to protect the children in my charge, while preparing to serve coffee to the mob when they'd done what they had to do. I could hear vehicles roaring around the town and frequent gunshots, but no-one came to let me know what was going on. It was almost 6am when people began to trickle into the hostel's dining room.
Yes, they'd been succesful and the escapee was now back in police custody. It seemed that eventually he'd gone to ground by burrowing into a huge pile of gravel at the airstrip; he wasn't aware, however, that he'd been seen by some of the aboriginal people who lived near by; he was an Italian, not one of their own people and it was they who'd told the police where to find him.
The pile of gravel was surrounded by the men and Dave, the Senior Constable, called on him to give himself up. He sprang out of the heap wielding a knife, which he'd picked up on his travels around the place, and he began waving this at Dave. Dave was taunting him, "Come on, you mongrel, think you can take me, etc, etc" . And while he kept the man's attention, Constable Chris, all 6ft 6 inches and 20 stone of him, wearing Bush boots of heavy leather which laced up to the knees, got behind him. And planted a kick right where it hurt most, so that the man went one way, the knife another..........
Did I mention earlier that any reason served as an excuse for a party? This was a day-long humdinger!
Sep 9th 2005, 9:39 pm
#154
BE Forum Addict
Joined: Jan 2004
Location: Halls Head, WA
Posts: 4,146
Re: It's been a long, long time!
So did you go to Uni ? Did you ? You always leave it on a cliffhanger - you should write soap operas !! 
Sep 9th 2005, 9:58 pm
#155
kelly Slater...mmmmmm
Joined: Jul 2004
Posts: 304
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Originally Posted by TheCrone
For me, the sudden understanding came in Carnarvon. And the chief mistake, among a whole lot of minor ones, was marrying my husband. He'd been a heavy drinker when we first married. But, in the way of those times, we hadn't lived together before we married and, due in a large part to my naivety but also to deliberate intent on his part, the extent had been hidden from me. Alcohol had formed no part of my life as a child. It wasn't that my parents had any religious or moral objections to it - Father would have a couple of pints once a week when he went to play snooker at the Club - but for the rest, it was a bottle of sherry at Christmas and half of that would go into the trifle. Even when I was old enough to go to the pub myself, it was a weekly occurence, a stop for a couple of drinks on the way to a dance or to the cinema. And I thought of this as the norm, through the seven years of my first marriage and the four subsequent years when I'd been on my own.
Now I found myself married to a man for whom no day was complete without a copious intake; not merely 7 or 8 pints at lunchtime, though that wasn't unusual, but around half a bottle of gin each evening. It was an enormous shock to find that if he came home for dinner at night, he'd leave immediately afterwards to go back to the pub. Alternatively, he was equally likely to turn up hours later, still expecting his meal to have been kept warm for him.
Now I found myself married to a man for whom no day was complete without a copious intake; not merely 7 or 8 pints at lunchtime, though that wasn't unusual, but around half a bottle of gin each evening. It was an enormous shock to find that if he came home for dinner at night, he'd leave immediately afterwards to go back to the pub. Alternatively, he was equally likely to turn up hours later, still expecting his meal to have been kept warm for him.
I love your posts though..keep them coming please..
Last edited by Carkedit; Sep 9th 2005 at 10:29 pm.
Sep 10th 2005, 2:45 pm
#156
been there........
Thread Starter
Joined: Jan 2005
Location: Perth, WA
Posts: 349
Re: It's been a long, long time!
I found Carnarvon quite a strange place to live. Unlike most small towns outside the metro area, it seemed to have no sense of community. There were the plantation people who in those days were mostly Italians or Eastern Europeans; the tracking station personnel, American, British and a few Australians, who kept themselves very remote from the town; the transients, travellers and holiday-makers who mostly stayed in the numerous caravan parks; and people whose families had lived there for generations, who saw no need to mix with these 'foreigners'. But I must say that Carnarvon has the best climate of anywhere I've lived in Australia. It's cooler than the Kimberley in summer, warmer than Perth in winter and, being on the coast it has an almost daily seabreeze, which keeps the humidity way, way down compared to Queensland. But no place is Paradise if your personal life isn't happy.
Mine wasn't which is why Jane's suggestion nagged constantly at the back of my mind. Would I LIKE to go to Uni? Well, yes and no. If it had been an option when I left school, way back in 1950, I'd have jumped at the chance. But my parents couldn't afford it and in any case, Father was one of those who saw education as a waste of time and money for girls, while Mother wanted me in the workforce as quickly as possible so that I could start repaying some of the costs incurred in keeping me at school until I was seventeen. On the other hand, I was scared. I mean, it's okay to think to yourself that at least you passed the Oxford and Cambridge Universities Entrance exam and that you seem to have more general knowledge, be better read and more literate than the majority of people around you. It's what you comfort yourself with when your general self-esteem isn't very high and when you're more aware of what you don't know than of the knowledge you have. But - put it on the line? Find out how you stack up against professional academics and young people who've established their right to a Uni. place by recently passing exams, when your formal education ended nearly 25 years ago? What if I failed? What if I failed REALLY BADLY? How would I, how could I, cope with that? But the idea nagged and nagged.....
In mid-September John (with whom we'd stayed when we first got to town and who had become a family friend) called to see me. He'd just returned from Perth, where he'd sat a Uni. entrance exam for people who didn't already have Matric. He was desperate to got to Murdoch and had brought me all the guide-lines and information on "How to Apply".
"Look", he said. "All you have to do is write a 2000 word essay giving details of your earlier education, your post-school work history, why you want to go to Uni. and what you hope to do with a degree. So far there have only been 32 applicants for the hundred available places and you've a fortnight to write the essay. What have you got to lose?"
Well, not much, actually, when he put it like that! So I sat down with pen and paper and, after a dozen re-writes, posted off my effort to arrive by Sept. 30th. A couple of weeks later, I received acknowledgement that my application had been received. But in mid-November, there was news in the West Australian that there had been almost 1200 applicants for those 100 places. "Ah, well," I thought, "there go my chances. Another lovely dream bites the dust."
Mine wasn't which is why Jane's suggestion nagged constantly at the back of my mind. Would I LIKE to go to Uni? Well, yes and no. If it had been an option when I left school, way back in 1950, I'd have jumped at the chance. But my parents couldn't afford it and in any case, Father was one of those who saw education as a waste of time and money for girls, while Mother wanted me in the workforce as quickly as possible so that I could start repaying some of the costs incurred in keeping me at school until I was seventeen. On the other hand, I was scared. I mean, it's okay to think to yourself that at least you passed the Oxford and Cambridge Universities Entrance exam and that you seem to have more general knowledge, be better read and more literate than the majority of people around you. It's what you comfort yourself with when your general self-esteem isn't very high and when you're more aware of what you don't know than of the knowledge you have. But - put it on the line? Find out how you stack up against professional academics and young people who've established their right to a Uni. place by recently passing exams, when your formal education ended nearly 25 years ago? What if I failed? What if I failed REALLY BADLY? How would I, how could I, cope with that? But the idea nagged and nagged.....
In mid-September John (with whom we'd stayed when we first got to town and who had become a family friend) called to see me. He'd just returned from Perth, where he'd sat a Uni. entrance exam for people who didn't already have Matric. He was desperate to got to Murdoch and had brought me all the guide-lines and information on "How to Apply".
"Look", he said. "All you have to do is write a 2000 word essay giving details of your earlier education, your post-school work history, why you want to go to Uni. and what you hope to do with a degree. So far there have only been 32 applicants for the hundred available places and you've a fortnight to write the essay. What have you got to lose?"
Well, not much, actually, when he put it like that! So I sat down with pen and paper and, after a dozen re-writes, posted off my effort to arrive by Sept. 30th. A couple of weeks later, I received acknowledgement that my application had been received. But in mid-November, there was news in the West Australian that there had been almost 1200 applicants for those 100 places. "Ah, well," I thought, "there go my chances. Another lovely dream bites the dust."
Sep 10th 2005, 2:53 pm
#157
Where I want to be
Joined: Jan 2005
Location: In my own head
Posts: 3,220
Re: It's been a long, long time!
You know how to keep us reading, the soap writers have nothing on you!!! Absolutely fascinating, please keep going.
Sep 13th 2005, 3:45 am
#158
been there........
Thread Starter
Joined: Jan 2005
Location: Perth, WA
Posts: 349
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Jane sat her exams and all her hard work paid off; she had the highest results in the State, outside the metropolitan area. I was very proud of her! Now it remained to be seen if she would be offered the University and course of her first choice - she had applied to do Law at the University of Western Australia.
We had been told that, if a place was to be offered, we would receive notification on Jan. 23rd. The day's mail arrived by plane in Carnarvon at lunchtime and was available in the private boxes at the Post Office at 3pm. We didn't live far away and Jane insisted that she be the one to walk down there, while I waited for her at home. Shortly after 3, through the kitchen window I could see her coming up the road, slowly, her head down, shoulders hunched, her feet deliberately kicking up red dust on the unmade road. There was, however, a large manilla envelope under her arm.
Coming in, she threw the envelope on the kitchen table. "That", she said, glaring at me, "is addressed to you and not to me. And if you've got in and I haven't, I will never, EVER speak to you again!" With which she burst into tears and ran into her bedroom. Oh dear! That totally took the gloss off the fact that yes, I'd been offered a place at Murdoch University and had two weeks in which to decide if I'd accept or reject it, or apply for a year's
extension.
As I'm sure you can imagine, the atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife around the dinner table that evening! There's nothing like a teen-age girl in a fit of the sulks to put a damper on things.
But at work the following morning I received a joyful phone call from her. She'd had her mail addressed to our street address and it had been delivered by the post-man in the usual way - and she'd been offered exactly what she'd worked and hoped for.
Not surprisingly, the situation between Jane and M. was pretty fraught by this time. She had neither patience nor tolerance for his drinking, and little respect for me because I put up with it. M.'s moods were unpredictable; we never knew when he'd come home bursting with good humour, chattering incessantly, demanding to be the centre of the whole family's attention, or whether he'd be in a nasty, dark, bitterly sarcastic frame of mind, hurling verbal abuse at us all. But I must make one point clear; physical violence was never an issue. He'd threatened it once, in the early days of our marriage, but rather than being cowed, I'd explained very clearly the consequences if he laid a finger on me or the children. I must have got my point across, because he didn't try it again.
Buit Jane wanted out, as quickly as possible and I couldn't blame her. Three days later, she was on a plane to Perth. And though I was happy for her, I was sad for myslf, for I saw this as the end of her childhood. And indeed it was, for we've never lived under the same roof since that day.
We had been told that, if a place was to be offered, we would receive notification on Jan. 23rd. The day's mail arrived by plane in Carnarvon at lunchtime and was available in the private boxes at the Post Office at 3pm. We didn't live far away and Jane insisted that she be the one to walk down there, while I waited for her at home. Shortly after 3, through the kitchen window I could see her coming up the road, slowly, her head down, shoulders hunched, her feet deliberately kicking up red dust on the unmade road. There was, however, a large manilla envelope under her arm.
Coming in, she threw the envelope on the kitchen table. "That", she said, glaring at me, "is addressed to you and not to me. And if you've got in and I haven't, I will never, EVER speak to you again!" With which she burst into tears and ran into her bedroom. Oh dear! That totally took the gloss off the fact that yes, I'd been offered a place at Murdoch University and had two weeks in which to decide if I'd accept or reject it, or apply for a year's
extension.
As I'm sure you can imagine, the atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife around the dinner table that evening! There's nothing like a teen-age girl in a fit of the sulks to put a damper on things.
But at work the following morning I received a joyful phone call from her. She'd had her mail addressed to our street address and it had been delivered by the post-man in the usual way - and she'd been offered exactly what she'd worked and hoped for.
Not surprisingly, the situation between Jane and M. was pretty fraught by this time. She had neither patience nor tolerance for his drinking, and little respect for me because I put up with it. M.'s moods were unpredictable; we never knew when he'd come home bursting with good humour, chattering incessantly, demanding to be the centre of the whole family's attention, or whether he'd be in a nasty, dark, bitterly sarcastic frame of mind, hurling verbal abuse at us all. But I must make one point clear; physical violence was never an issue. He'd threatened it once, in the early days of our marriage, but rather than being cowed, I'd explained very clearly the consequences if he laid a finger on me or the children. I must have got my point across, because he didn't try it again.
Buit Jane wanted out, as quickly as possible and I couldn't blame her. Three days later, she was on a plane to Perth. And though I was happy for her, I was sad for myslf, for I saw this as the end of her childhood. And indeed it was, for we've never lived under the same roof since that day.
Sep 13th 2005, 6:02 am
#159
BE Forum Addict
Joined: Jan 2004
Location: Halls Head, WA
Posts: 4,146
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Great news you got into uni - what did you study ? Sad about Jane leaving, I guess they all have to leave at some point. I'm not looking forward to that bit of being a parent.
Sep 17th 2005, 7:56 am
#160
Just Joined
Joined: Aug 2005
Posts: 29
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Please hurry with the next installment. I need my fix. Enjoying your memoirs very much and appreciate your time and experiences.
Sep 17th 2005, 8:01 am
#161
been there........
Thread Starter
Joined: Jan 2005
Location: Perth, WA
Posts: 349
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Originally Posted by Nightmair
Please hurry with the next installment. I need my fix. Enjoying your memoirs very much and appreciate your time and experiences.
YEE - HAAAAAAA! We Won! (got to get thepriorities right, you know!)
Sep 17th 2005, 10:18 am
#162
Member of Mumo-land
Joined: Oct 2003
Location: DownUnder
Posts: 771
Re: It's been a long, long time!
Originally Posted by TheCrone
My favourite author once wrote:
"Things happen to you when you're young. And you think you know what it was that happened, but you really don't. Then later, sometimes years later, you suddenly understand what was really going on. And you feel such a fool, because it's too late to do anything about the mistakes you made."
(Sheri S. Tepper: The Gate to Womens' Country)
For me, the sudden understanding came in Carnarvon. And the chief mistake, among a whole lot of minor ones, was marrying my husband. He'd been a heavy drinker when we first married. But, in the way of those times, we hadn't lived together before we married and, due in a large part to my naivety but also to deliberate intent on his part, the extent had been hidden from me. Alcohol had formed no part of my life as a child. It wasn't that my parents had any religious or moral objections to it - Father would have a couple of pints once a week when he went to play snooker at the Club - but for the rest, it was a bottle of sherry at Christmas and half of that would go into the trifle. Even when I was old enough to go to the pub myself, it was a weekly occurence, a stop for a couple of drinks on the way to a dance or to the cinema. And I thought of this as the norm, through the seven years of my first marriage and the four subsequent years when I'd been on my own.
Now I found myself married to a man for whom no day was complete without a copious intake; not merely 7 or 8 pints at lunchtime, though that wasn't unusual, but around half a bottle of gin each evening. It was an enormous shock to find that if he came home for dinner at night, he'd leave immediately afterwards to go back to the pub. Alternatively, he was equally likely to turn up hours later, still expecting his meal to have been kept warm for him.
A further complication was added by his eldest son, who arrived 2 days after our wedding and announced that he'd come to live with us. But M. was 40, I was 30, and Mark was 20 - and one can't send a 20-year-old off to bed because one wants to have a screaming row with his father. I was hurt, angry, bewildered, still wondering how to tackle the problem when, 3 months after our marriage, M. had what the doctors called a complete nervous braekdown.
"Things happen to you when you're young. And you think you know what it was that happened, but you really don't. Then later, sometimes years later, you suddenly understand what was really going on. And you feel such a fool, because it's too late to do anything about the mistakes you made."
(Sheri S. Tepper: The Gate to Womens' Country)
For me, the sudden understanding came in Carnarvon. And the chief mistake, among a whole lot of minor ones, was marrying my husband. He'd been a heavy drinker when we first married. But, in the way of those times, we hadn't lived together before we married and, due in a large part to my naivety but also to deliberate intent on his part, the extent had been hidden from me. Alcohol had formed no part of my life as a child. It wasn't that my parents had any religious or moral objections to it - Father would have a couple of pints once a week when he went to play snooker at the Club - but for the rest, it was a bottle of sherry at Christmas and half of that would go into the trifle. Even when I was old enough to go to the pub myself, it was a weekly occurence, a stop for a couple of drinks on the way to a dance or to the cinema. And I thought of this as the norm, through the seven years of my first marriage and the four subsequent years when I'd been on my own.
Now I found myself married to a man for whom no day was complete without a copious intake; not merely 7 or 8 pints at lunchtime, though that wasn't unusual, but around half a bottle of gin each evening. It was an enormous shock to find that if he came home for dinner at night, he'd leave immediately afterwards to go back to the pub. Alternatively, he was equally likely to turn up hours later, still expecting his meal to have been kept warm for him.
A further complication was added by his eldest son, who arrived 2 days after our wedding and announced that he'd come to live with us. But M. was 40, I was 30, and Mark was 20 - and one can't send a 20-year-old off to bed because one wants to have a screaming row with his father. I was hurt, angry, bewildered, still wondering how to tackle the problem when, 3 months after our marriage, M. had what the doctors called a complete nervous braekdown.
"Things happen to you when you're young. And you think you know what it was that happened, but you really don't. Then later, sometimes years later, you suddenly understand what was really going on. And you feel such a fool, because it's too late to do anything about the mistakes you made."
(Sheri S. Tepper: The Gate to Womens' Country)
Gawd this is so true.
Thank you for sharing your life stories with us. I feel priveleged. I think you are one of those rare people that guide others through their lives. Thanks again for being special and writing with such honesty and clarity. I get the feeling you are a messenger for us all.
Sep 17th 2005, 2:52 pm
#163
been there........
Thread Starter
Joined: Jan 2005
Location: Perth, WA
Posts: 349
Re: It's been a long, long time!
23rd February, 1975 - I still have the clipping from the following day's West Australian, showing a group of students and tutors under a tree, anticipation showing clearly on all our faces.
being at Murdoch was one of the best experiences of my life. I learned that I COULD learn, which was very good for my self-esteem; I learned that for me, the gaining of knowledge for its own sake is one of life's enduring pleasures. My stated goal had been to produce radio programmes, but I quickly learned that this beyond my grasp for reasons I couldn't control. But no way was I going to drop out - I was having far too much fun! And, I was sure, other avenues, opportunities would present themselves somewhere along the way. New ideas, new ways of thinking were flung at me on a daily basis, not merely from set texts, lectures, professors and tutors, but in debate and discussion with other students over a meal or a cup of coffee.
We'd been there a little over a year and three of us were sitting around a table. Dawn, who'd become my friend, told us that she had decided to drop out because Murdoch wasn't living up to her expectations. "Look at us, the mature-age students," she said. "We're mostly women; we've had rotten marriages, been divorced, struggled to bring up kids on our own, been short of money............we KNOW about poverty, injustice, not only in our own lives but all over the world. We see the ways the 'haves' - usually male - protect themselves from the 'have-nots' - usually female. I thought we'd be making plans, developing strategies to alter the status quo, do something about the inequalities, solve the world's problems. Instead of that all we seem to do is sit around drinking coffee and talking about men, money and politics!"
"Ah!" said Penny. "And when you've found a way to deal with those three, you WILL have solved the world's problems!'
Lateral thinking at its best!
Our tutor had made it plain that the Australian media, with its limited annual intake, would be closed to mature-age graduates, since it preferred to pay only cadet wages to younger people than the higher rate that we would expect. But that was no reason to drop out of 'Introduction to Media Studies'. We were divided into teams of three, given instruction in cinematography and film-editing AND a video camera, then told that our major assignment for the semester was to produce a 15 - minute film on any topic we chose. Our group decided to concentrate on the Port of Fremantle. During the filming, which went on over several weeks, we were invited aboard a British Navy submarine which was in the harbour and interviewed her captain; went aboard a tug and filmed as she towed a cruise liner into Gage Roads; talked to the Egyptian captain of a containership and filmed it loading; interviewed the Harbour Master and were taken to the top of the Port Authority tower to film the full panorama of the harbour and its facilities. And in between, we analysed newspaper articles, dissected advertisements, discussed the aesthetics of Pop Art...........fascinating stuff!
being at Murdoch was one of the best experiences of my life. I learned that I COULD learn, which was very good for my self-esteem; I learned that for me, the gaining of knowledge for its own sake is one of life's enduring pleasures. My stated goal had been to produce radio programmes, but I quickly learned that this beyond my grasp for reasons I couldn't control. But no way was I going to drop out - I was having far too much fun! And, I was sure, other avenues, opportunities would present themselves somewhere along the way. New ideas, new ways of thinking were flung at me on a daily basis, not merely from set texts, lectures, professors and tutors, but in debate and discussion with other students over a meal or a cup of coffee.
We'd been there a little over a year and three of us were sitting around a table. Dawn, who'd become my friend, told us that she had decided to drop out because Murdoch wasn't living up to her expectations. "Look at us, the mature-age students," she said. "We're mostly women; we've had rotten marriages, been divorced, struggled to bring up kids on our own, been short of money............we KNOW about poverty, injustice, not only in our own lives but all over the world. We see the ways the 'haves' - usually male - protect themselves from the 'have-nots' - usually female. I thought we'd be making plans, developing strategies to alter the status quo, do something about the inequalities, solve the world's problems. Instead of that all we seem to do is sit around drinking coffee and talking about men, money and politics!"
"Ah!" said Penny. "And when you've found a way to deal with those three, you WILL have solved the world's problems!'
Lateral thinking at its best!
Our tutor had made it plain that the Australian media, with its limited annual intake, would be closed to mature-age graduates, since it preferred to pay only cadet wages to younger people than the higher rate that we would expect. But that was no reason to drop out of 'Introduction to Media Studies'. We were divided into teams of three, given instruction in cinematography and film-editing AND a video camera, then told that our major assignment for the semester was to produce a 15 - minute film on any topic we chose. Our group decided to concentrate on the Port of Fremantle. During the filming, which went on over several weeks, we were invited aboard a British Navy submarine which was in the harbour and interviewed her captain; went aboard a tug and filmed as she towed a cruise liner into Gage Roads; talked to the Egyptian captain of a containership and filmed it loading; interviewed the Harbour Master and were taken to the top of the Port Authority tower to film the full panorama of the harbour and its facilities. And in between, we analysed newspaper articles, dissected advertisements, discussed the aesthetics of Pop Art...........fascinating stuff!
Sep 19th 2005, 5:26 am
#164
been there........
Thread Starter
Joined: Jan 2005
Location: Perth, WA
Posts: 349
Re: It's been a long, long time!
After 23 years of Liberal government, labot was elected to power in 1971. Gough Whitlam, the new Prime Minister and a former academic, had a vision of Australia as "The Clever Country" and towards this end, made tertiary education fee-free. Students were also paid an allowance of $40 per week.
It was never envisaged that this would be enough to live on; most of the school-leavers were partially supported by their parents, while the rest of us relied on our partners or on part-time work. When M. discovered that neither bullying nor emotional blackmail was going to deter me from attending Uni., he decided to come with us to Perth, where he got a job as work-shop manager for a forklift company. All went well at first. But as the number of his acquaintances grew, so did the time he spent away from home, while his contribution to the household expenses dwindled to - well, whatever he had left at the end of the week, I suspect! I managed to cram my Uni commitments into 3 days a week and found part-time office work for the other two.
I found the workload at Uni very heavy - 8 units per academic year - but it continued to be a delight. One double unit, "Great Ideas about Man and Society" was a crash course in philosophical thought from the Ancient Greeks to contemporary times. After the Greeks came the Romans, then religious belief-systems covering everything from the Anabaptists to the Zoroastrians; another section was devoted to all the 'isms' of political thought - anarchism,
fascism, capitalism, communism, nihilism, socialism et al; the development of psycho-analysis and psychology was in there too. All this in 26 weeks, with 6 essays to write as well.
But it was the Literature courses that I found irresistable. I'd always been 'a reader'. Even at 8 or 9 years of age I was reading a minimum of 3 books a week and the number increased as I grew older. At home, the books which were available to me were those of my grandmother and my father and reflected their times and their interests. So by the time I left school, I'd ploughed through all of Dickens and Thackeray, George Bernard Shaw, John Buchan and Rider Haggard, to name but a few. I'd not had a happy childhood; reading was an escape into worlds that seemed to make more sense than the reality I lived in. Without taste or discrimination, I read everything that had print on it, down to the labels on sauce bottles!
But now I discovered that I was perceived to be exceptionally well-read. And I was fortunate enough to find an absolutely brilliant teacher. If I thought of each book I'd read as a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, he helped me put it together so that I could see the full spectrum. So I steeped myself in Literature courses; Colonial Lit., Lyric Poetry, Lit. in a Social Context; South-East Asian Lit., African Lit., Literary Criticism, Romantic Poetry, Science Fiction.
And it all came to a crashing halt in June, 1976 when I was diagnosed with cancer of the cervix and uterus.
It was never envisaged that this would be enough to live on; most of the school-leavers were partially supported by their parents, while the rest of us relied on our partners or on part-time work. When M. discovered that neither bullying nor emotional blackmail was going to deter me from attending Uni., he decided to come with us to Perth, where he got a job as work-shop manager for a forklift company. All went well at first. But as the number of his acquaintances grew, so did the time he spent away from home, while his contribution to the household expenses dwindled to - well, whatever he had left at the end of the week, I suspect! I managed to cram my Uni commitments into 3 days a week and found part-time office work for the other two.
I found the workload at Uni very heavy - 8 units per academic year - but it continued to be a delight. One double unit, "Great Ideas about Man and Society" was a crash course in philosophical thought from the Ancient Greeks to contemporary times. After the Greeks came the Romans, then religious belief-systems covering everything from the Anabaptists to the Zoroastrians; another section was devoted to all the 'isms' of political thought - anarchism,
fascism, capitalism, communism, nihilism, socialism et al; the development of psycho-analysis and psychology was in there too. All this in 26 weeks, with 6 essays to write as well.
But it was the Literature courses that I found irresistable. I'd always been 'a reader'. Even at 8 or 9 years of age I was reading a minimum of 3 books a week and the number increased as I grew older. At home, the books which were available to me were those of my grandmother and my father and reflected their times and their interests. So by the time I left school, I'd ploughed through all of Dickens and Thackeray, George Bernard Shaw, John Buchan and Rider Haggard, to name but a few. I'd not had a happy childhood; reading was an escape into worlds that seemed to make more sense than the reality I lived in. Without taste or discrimination, I read everything that had print on it, down to the labels on sauce bottles!
But now I discovered that I was perceived to be exceptionally well-read. And I was fortunate enough to find an absolutely brilliant teacher. If I thought of each book I'd read as a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, he helped me put it together so that I could see the full spectrum. So I steeped myself in Literature courses; Colonial Lit., Lyric Poetry, Lit. in a Social Context; South-East Asian Lit., African Lit., Literary Criticism, Romantic Poetry, Science Fiction.
And it all came to a crashing halt in June, 1976 when I was diagnosed with cancer of the cervix and uterus.
Sep 19th 2005, 1:44 pm
#165
Forum Regular
Joined: Feb 2004
Location: Leicester (now Perth)
Posts: 261
Re: It's been a long, long time!
And it all came to a crashing halt in June, 1976 when I was diagnosed with cancer of the cervix and uterus.[/QUOTE]
Oh no, what happened next!!!
Please don't keep us waiting too long TC.
Oh no, what happened next!!!
Please don't keep us waiting too long TC.