Walking down memory lane

This is not what I was originally going to blog about today. But it was my birthday on Saturday and my sister sent me the most amazing gift, hand made by her. She makes beautiful greeting cards - they are works of art. Her gift came in a hand made and decorated box, a piece of art itself. Inside was the most beautiful book, which folded out as it opened, with pages decorated around photos of us as children, and adults with our Mum and Dad.  I will treasure this very special gift.

Can you see the message: "Time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters".

To read more please click on "read more"


We have lost both our parents in the last two years, and this year was my first birthday without either of my parents. It felt strange to be without them on my birthday. I would normally be inviting them to our home for my birthday dinner. My family came for dinner, and we had a lovely evening, but I really missed my Dad on Saturday. I felt I part of me was missing.  My sister's gift brought a tear to my eye.


I'm the small blond one..... oh how I hated this short cut off hair style. I so wanted long plats like my school friend.  These photos show me from left to right clockwise, me at age 3 in 1958 at a wedding, on summer holiday 1958 with our Mum at Safety Bay south of Perth, at Dunsborough with my sister summer holidays January 1961 the year I started school (our bather's had shirred fronts. Mine was blue, and my sister's was green), and with our Dad in our backyard before going to church, possibly 1960.

Safety Bay summer holidays ??.... with that wind and those jumpers we are wearing it doesn't look too summery!

Safety Bay November 1958

 Along the same theme as memories, last week I attended the book launch of "Reflections". A beautiful book of poems, prose and memories by my friend Jo Robertson with lino cut prints by her daughter Merry Robertson. It is a beautiful collaborative work with Merry's prints illustrating some of Jo's writings from the last 40 years. The book launch brought together a lovely group of people for morning tea at the South West Women's Health & Information Centre. Proceeds from book sales on the day went to the Centre.  I am privileged to know Jo through the South Side Quills, of which I am a member with Jo. As well as being a friend and fellow writer, Jo generously mentors all the writers in the group.

I was thrilled that one of Jo's poems published in the book -"Test Match, on seeing a photograph, Abandoned Cricket Pitch, Mallee Country" - was written by Jo after seeing a photograph I had taken of an abandoned cricket pitch at Dundas south of Norseman. You can see that image and read about Dundas by clicking here - Discover Gold at Dundas 

The image below shows Jo reading from her book, and Merry talking about lino cut art. You can see more of Merry's work by going to her website by clicking here - Merry Robertson  and here - Jump Marketing

Last month our homework for our writing group was to write a short Memoir.  Here is mine - Memoir from the Marj.  The iconic His Majesty's Theatre in Perth, or the Maj as it is affectionately known, is the only remaining working Edwardian theatre in Australia and is home to WA Opera. You can click on the link here to see more - His Majesty's Theatre

MEMOIR FROM THE MAJ                        

                                                                    

A little girl in a frilly dress sits on the edge of her plush red upholstered seat in the middle of the front row of the theatre. She is so excited she can hardly sit still. Over the railing she can see into the orchestra pit where the musicians are tuning their instruments. She points a pink lace gloved finger, “Look Daddy, can you see them?”  “Yes, hush, it will be starting soon.” She is fascinated by the elegant lady with the violin who has just looked up at her and smiled and the man with the big drum.

The lights dim and a quiet descends over the audience. The conductor raises his baton. The heavy curtains roll aside and she is transported into the ragged tumbled foreign world of Oliver, the cocky Artful Dodger, the scheming Fagin and poor Nancy.

She is so close to the stage she feels like she could reach out to them and be lifted onto the revolving stage that miraculously turns and changes from scene to scene. The actors look directly at her and smile. She feels like they are singing just for her.

* * * * *

I must have been five or six or seven. I wish I had found that theatre programme from Oliver Twist when I packed up my parents’ house. I would dearly love to have it.

I have no idea how my Dad was able to purchase middle front row seats for Oliver Twist at His Majesty's Theatre in Perth. It was a magical introduction to the world of live theatre. What child wouldn’t love seeing live theatre up this close? We went to other shows – The King and I, The sound of Music – and I yearned to be up on that stage with those actors and singers. I played and sang along with the records constantly on our radiogram and knew every word of every song.

My love for live musical theatre continues today but nothing will ever equal that first show, sitting in the front row in my frilly dress with the actors smiling straight at me.

Please sir, can I have some more?

As you can see, I still have these LP records.......

I hope you have enjoyed my little indulgent reminiscing. 

Today is a beautiful sunny day outside - shall I meet you for tea on the porch? 
Friends don't need fancy food. 

 

Do you have a favourite memory from your childhood? Tell us about it in the comments. 
I wonder what my grandies special memories will be. 

Thanks for stopping by. I value your comments and look forward to hearing from you. Have a wonderful week. 

Concentrating at cricket practice

I am linking up to Mosaic Monday, Our World Tuesday, Wednesday Around the World, and What's It Wednesday.  Please click on the links to see fabulous contributions from around the world - virtual touring at its best!

Mosaic Monday
Our World Tuesday
Wednesday Around the World at Communal Global
What's It Wednesday

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