Siblings: And My Early Memories.
I was two and a half when my sister was born and being the first-born I can remember wondering what was happening and where did my mum go with that big tummy of hers. All very special they said, and a new little sister was now part of the family.
At the time my paternal Grandmother lived in Paddington an inner suburb of Sydney in one of those double storied terraced town houses, that are now so expensive and fashionablebly out of reach to many.
I can remember the iron fence with the pointy spears on top, out in the small front yard and the staircase inside of the dark house, going up to the rooms above.
Not much more than that can I remember however considering my mere two plus years at the time I am doing well with this recall.
I stayed with Grandma, when Dad was working and I can also remember going to visit Mum and little sister Susan in hospital. In particular I remember walking down a street close to the hospital and looking in shop windows as I walked or should I say toddled my way along the footpath. Dad stopped at one stage and held me up to show me the little teddy glass jar, filled with jellybeans in the lolly shop window. I know that I was so excited as we walked into the shop and Dad purchased the teddy filled with jellybeans for me and I do remember holding his hand with the jar securely held in my spare little hand.
As you would expect I got to eat some of my Jellybeans and I admired that little glass bear from afar as it sat on top of the dressing table.
Very soon my Mother and Sister came home. I was thrilled and recall being so excited that I would go into the bedroom and look at my little sister sleeping sweetly in her crib. It is then whilst alone with my baby sister that my excitement and my urge to share over came me.
Sighting the jellybeans in the teddy jar and seeing my little sister lying in her crib awake, I climbed up and reached for the jar. As I advanced towards the jar the thought of a lid on the top of the glass teddy bear, was not going to stop me sharing these beans with my little sister.
I love the black aniseed flavour so you guessed it into her tiny mouth went one black jelly bean and there lay one cute little baby sucking away with black syrup, engulfing her whole little mouth and chin.
I was so proud to have shared my gift with my new little sister and remember running to the kitchen and declaring to my mother "The baby loves my jelly beans too mummy."
At this stage any mum would panic or become very agitated and inquisitive as to what I meant. Well sure enough my mum panicked and as she ran to the bedroom I was perplexed, so I followed her up the passage to the bedroom where baby slept.
It was to mothers horror because just as I had said, baby loves the black jelly beans too, and there she lie in her crib, black, sticky jelly bean juice all around her tiny mouth and on the bed sheet as well. My new baby sister was happily sucking away on her first black jelly bean. Of course mum used her hooked finger manoeuvre to disengage the foreign object and even though baby was fine and I was proud of my sharing episode, Mum! Was not amused.
Oh well I learnt that day that there is food and there is FOOD!!!
I spent many happy days with my little sister and will recall some more little sister and brothers events in another post.
Can you also remember an early incident in your life involving you and your family? I wonder how far back you can go? If so please share the story here in comments section or write a post of your own and let me know when you have posted it.
Milli
Ps. As you can see the jar is now empty after all these years LOL.
Not really I just could not find a full one in my google search. Thanks google.
1926 just out of hospital, Scarlet Fever. Age 2
ReplyDeleteBill was home at last, and wearing his grandfather's soft peak cap back to front he ran up and down the narrow space between the living room table and fireplace making loud engine noises.
With both arms outstretched he was doing his best to imitate an aeroplane while singing the song his grandfather taught him.
Flying was resuming its popularity among the rich again, the war having curtailed the sport and the lives of the original enthusiasts. Alcock and Brown had flown the Atlantic but Amy Johnson was yet to fly to Australia. Composing songs about flying was popular and so was Bill for singing the song to his grandfather.
'Have you learned any new songs in hospital Bill?'
'Yes yes GrandDad,' and he started to sing the words to the new song, 'Bye Bye Blackbird.' He remembered the song well since it was played on the hospital gramophone each tea time.
He also remembered the sandwiches they ate for tea where the banana were squashed with a fork before being spread onto bread.
How to pretend to be asleep when the medicine trolley visited and to cry out loud when being injected before it hurt too much, and he befriend anyone who wasn't confined to bed.
Bill grew up a lot during those three weeks in hospital and at this young age he was forcibly taught the meaning of that adage,
'There's no place like home'.
Walking along the pavement on his way to the front door of the house Bill stopped to inspect his 'Cave.' The name he gave to the cast iron foot scraper built into the outside brick wall where in good weather he would build a grotto.
He spent hours collecting colour toffee papers or silver paper from cigarette packets to lay on top of the moss he found in the gutter, finishing it by adding anything special he could find.
His picturesque setting was made for the tooth fairy he was told he would meet one day.
He wasn't particular in establishing ownership of his exhibits either.
Anything out of its rightful place was fair game to him, and once he displayed his grandfather's pipe. Made from clay, he buried its stem until the pipe looked like a realistic wishing well.
When grandfather saw what Bill had done to his favourite pipe he took off his wide leather belt in a threatening gesture, but Bill just smiled at him.
He knew grandfather would never hit him with a belt, and grandfather knew Bill would never think that he would.
It was a game they played. A part of the joy a young boy and his grandfather shared. At this age in his life was blissfully happy.
He was well loved and happy with a life that was full of learning for him. He had daily chores such as cleaning out the previous day's fire embers and black leading the fireplace and grate.
Sometimes he would rub white hearthstone over the concrete hearth and he never forgot to break off a piece to play with later.
It was one of many daily tasks for him.
For Bill they were not tasks at all. They were a games to play and a joy to perform, incurring as they did the praise of his grandfather for each task finished. He was being trained.
With no artificial distractions to hinder his progress Bill developed fast. There was no learning period other than an instilled discipline to do your best, then do better next time.
It was a good code and sufficient.
These were halcyon days, where the grimness of his surroundings and life did not exist for him. The slum was his home, his world and his playground and he was happy.
my mum rescued me as a bay when my bro put talckm in my face instead of my bum, thank god he never put a nappy on my headx
ReplyDeleteoh gawd, milli. i am so glad your baby sister did not choke. me is sooo going to spank ya! lol.
ReplyDeletei once dropped my two year old sister from the swing. we shared the seat together and it dawned on me (i was 9 that the harder i kick, the harder we will swing) and there the sister, landed face down on the playsand. rofl!
of course, i was spanked. little sister did tell on me. it was the sand inside her mouth that gave it away.
lol@ jools!
MJ What can I say LOL I know I will leave you a little image..
ReplyDeleteGOTFUNKYPLEASURE.COM
LOLLL!
LOL!!!Jools that's hilarious. He will never live that one down. xo
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed your story!! I can't go as far back as you did. I'll post a childhood memory soon. Hugs...
ReplyDelete"1926 just out of hospital, Scarlet Fever. Age 2"
ReplyDeleteDear Bill thanks for sharing your story here.
I am reading your longer version and thank you for the story.
So true there is no place like home even if home 'aint what we would like it to be'.
A very insightful story with many interesting insights into Britain and the world in 1926.
That will be great Nick. xo
ReplyDeleteThat will be great Nick. xo
ReplyDeletethanks for the Spongebob reminder! you should see my bart simpson bikini. LMAO!
ReplyDeleteChildhood memories for me are tough, but there is one that comes to mind.
ReplyDelete1953 - my first job
Summer vacation in North Carolina, and spending time with my grandmother in the country, or so I thought. As it ended up, I said yes to a man named Jake Ivy to work for him in his tobacco fields. All I had to do was make the donkey, pulling a large canvas bag on wooden slats, move forward 2-3 feet at a time per row. Workers on each side would tear of tobacco leaves and throw them in the canvas "box". Then it would be giddyup-go, stop and go, until I reached the end of the row (this consisted of down one row and up the next), then there would be other workers to empty the "box" and dozens of girls, would be there to tie the leaves onto a stick and once empty, I would then start the giddyup-go thing all over again.
Everything was going pretty good until I gave to much of a slap with the reins on the donkey and he took off through several stalks of tobacco before one of the workers grabbed hold of the donkey to finally stop him. There wasn't anything I could do to stop him. The reason for this ... when he took off quickly I was jerked inside the "box" as I held onto the reins. For a couple minutes, people were asking where I was. One of the workers looked inside the "box", and there I was, sunk halfway deep into tobacco leaves.
Jake didn't fire me, but they all had a good laugh over that one.
I was six then and my wage? 15 cents a week.
Ahhhh.....those lollies in ya picture......we used to call them 'birds eggs'....because of the spotted outside covering......lol.
ReplyDeleteI remember, at the tender age of five, waking up, turning on the bedroom light....and seeing blackness!
I was terrified!!!
I had gone blind in the night.
I screamed the scream of the dead.
Mother came running, as did dad, and all my siblings.
I couldnt open my eyes, because I had conjuntivitous (spellcheck??)................
Scared the bijeziz outta me....................
It took mother a while to wash the gunk out of my eyes, and I refused to go back to sleep.................
"danceinsilence wrote today
ReplyDeleteChildhood memories for me are tough, but there is one that comes to mind.
1953 - my first job"
Bill tough times growing up were there for many of us and I guess those days gave us courage and determination.
I live this story of yours at age 6. I have such a vivid picture in my mind of you and the donkey cart and the tobacco harvesting. The thought of that donkey taking off and you being thrown into the tobacco box is hilarious. What a funny home video that would have made? Age six not that big in stature but obviously a tough little guy I imagine your fall being broken by all those to-baccy leaves.
Thanks for joining us here.
Hello Pete, Now your story hit my heart for all of its childhood innocence and fear.
ReplyDeleteConjunctivitis is such an awful condition for any age to acquire.
As for the scream of the dead I understand that too.
My third son was about 3 or 4 when I bought him his first doona. He slept in the bottom of the bunk be with his brother at the top. One night I heard him screaming out, Help Help at the top of his little voice. When I ran into him he was curled up at the bottom of the doona cover and could not find his way out. I had made the mistake of putting the press stud opening to the cover up by his head. He was such a wriggler as he slept that he has pulled the press stud open and then at some stage wriggled into the doona cover with the doona and then once at the bottom there was nowhere to go. It would have been very dark in their as he awoke to find himself trapped. I settled him down and turned the doona around so it would not happen again. The next day I happened to talk to a neighbour down the road and she asked me if I had heard the screams of a Child calling out Help, Help through the night. Embarrassed as I was I told her the story of my sons encounter with the doona cover. I made sure that this never happened again in my home although I have had friends tell me that their cats have done the same thing and have woken them up with their cat cries.
LOL haha gotcha. BS bikini gotta see that on LOL.
ReplyDeleteLOL haha gotcha. BS bikini gotta see that on LOL.
ReplyDeletei'll think about posting it. rofl!
ReplyDelete