MUSINGS and STORIES

REMEMBERING OLD SCHOOL DAYS

How I love reading of the old days in the Tamborine Bulletin! Not only does it inform me; it sometimes takes me back to my childhood at Buccan and my school days at Logan Village. This time, I was transported to the one-teacher school where headmaster Mr Alec Brown reigned supreme. I was terrified of him, although I am sure he was just a kindly old chap who did his best for us. There were about twenty of us at this little school, comprised of a lot of the families that have been spoken of in these pages. Perhaps the school at Tamborine Village had not eventuated because there were children from that area who rode their bikes or horses to our school. Among them were the Mantova children whose father ran the garage, and was written about in the Trailblazers. One of them was in my class, maybe Grade 2. I remember him well, because whenever my boisterous Uncle Ted would ask me how I was doing at school, he would end up asking me ‘And Doreen, who’s your boyfriend?’ I would always reply, ‘Cecil Mantova!’ to which I would then be grilled about this likely lad! I hope Cecil has had a good life, and if he is still around, might even recall a shy little dark haired girl called Doreen!

MY TAP DANCING DAYS

The Hollywood Theatre once stood proudly on the corner of Logan and Chatsworth Roads in Greenslopes. Every Saturday morning in 1938 I would take my sixpence (five cents) to attend the tap-dancing class that was held at the back of the stage. I was ten. There was a...

LIVING WITH A DISABILITY

I have a granddaughter who has ataxia, a form of cerebral palsy. She has a weakness in her hands, her tongue muscle and in the muscles of one leg. This means she cannot run, her fingers will not grasp smaller objects and her speech is sometimes hard to understand. She...

HIGH SCHOOL FORMALS

HIGH SCHOOL FORMALS I am hearing about the large sums of money spent on the Senior Formals of some private schools. Perhaps this applies to public schools as well. Or not. One mother said the dress for her daughter cost almost a thousand dollars, as well as many...

ENAMELLED PLAQUE

 During the last war, my parents befriended two American soldiers, brothers from Idaho. We became very fond of them and were devastated when the younger one lost his life in the fierce fighting in New Guinea. I wrote to his mother until she died and vowed to visit the...

THE CROWS AT BUCCAN

Recent news about crows menacing humans reminded me of my school days when Marty, Joan and I would walk barefoot the five kilometres from our home on Buccan Hill to the Logan Village School. The first hundred or so metres down the long hill were safe enough, but then...

THE MEAT ANTS ON THE WAY TO SCHOOL

We walked barefoot to school at Logan Village. The gravel road near the Quinzy Creek bridge was sometimes covered in large meat-ant’s nests. These big red ants packed a powerful sting of which we were most aware. Joan and I skirted round the nests, but one day, Marty...

THE SILVER THIMBLE

We were leaving the district. Leaving the farm that had been home to four generations of my father’s family. The Great Depression still raged and times were tough for a small dairy farmer of 1937. They would try their luck in the city. A share farmer was arranged, a...

VALE BARRY HUMPHRIES

What a great entertainer! He has enabled us to enjoy such mirth! Such talent! He will be missed. Years ago, when my daughter Katy was a teenager, we were having a day at the Brisbane Exhibition. We had not long passed through the gates when I almost bumped into this...

FAIR EXCHANGE

The doorbell woke me from my midday nap. I groggily answered the front door. The pleasant looking young man smiled at me. ‘My wife and I were going past your place,’ he said, ‘and we noticed all the oranges under the tree. I wondered if you could spare a few? They...