[et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ admin_label=”section” _builder_version=”4.16″ global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row admin_label=”row” _builder_version=”4.16″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” custom_padding=”||11px|||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.16″ custom_padding=”|||” global_colors_info=”{}” custom_padding__hover=”|||”][et_pb_post_title meta=”off” featured_image=”off” _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_post_title][et_pb_text admin_label=”Text” _builder_version=”4.23.2″ background_size=”initial” background_position=”top_left” background_repeat=”repeat” hover_enabled=”0″ global_colors_info=”{}” sticky_enabled=”0″]<\/p>\n
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 \u2018And Doreen, who\u2019s your boyfriend?\u2019 I would always reply, \u2018Cecil Mantova!\u2019 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!<\/p>\n
[\/et_pb_text][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section][et_pb_section fb_built=”1″ _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_row _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” custom_margin=”-82px|auto||auto||” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_column type=”4_4″ _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][et_pb_blog show_thumbnail=”off” show_author=”off” show_date=”off” show_categories=”off” _builder_version=”4.23.2″ _module_preset=”default” global_colors_info=”{}”][\/et_pb_blog][\/et_pb_column][\/et_pb_row][\/et_pb_section]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"on","_et_pb_old_content":"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.\r\nThe first hundred or so metres down the long hill were safe enough, but then we must pass the big gum tree that stood near the entrance to the cow paddock of rich pasture on the Logan River. In this tree nested the crows!\r\nI suppose it was only at nesting time that the crows would attack us, but we were always wary, looking upwards as we approached, and getting ready to run! I think the birds sensed that we were afraid and would remain quiet as we sauntered nearer, pretending we were fearless. Just when we thought we were safely past the danger spot, the crows would swoop, screeching their war-cry! Our little legs sprang into action, running as fast as we could as the birds swooped over our heads, again and again, terrifying us as we raced breathlessly towards the creek where we knew low hanging willows would give us some shelter. The crows did their job well; their nest was safe.\r\nThen it was on to school, past the meat-ant nests that pitted the old gravel road. It seemed that these big red ants were out to get us too...but that\u2019s another story.","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1,26],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-933","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general","category-musings"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/933","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=933"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/933\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":936,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/933\/revisions\/936"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=933"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=933"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sexinyourseventies.com\/2023\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=933"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}