Creative Ageing in Australia
By Leonie, 78. Port Fairy, VIC Empty factories and the rail lines promised not to tell As we explored the inner sanctum of that steel and iron playground Palm trees lined the railway, growing low with fronds that formed a veil Where we could hide with bikes and all, the two of us not… Continue reading Footscray, Our Playground
By Anne-Marie, 78. Henley Beach, SA My journey to Australia was a drawn-out odyssey. I first left France to work in Africa. In Zambia, I taught English as a second language in a boarding school near the source of the Zambezi River, where my son was born. During a holiday I travelled south to the border… Continue reading The Smoke That Thunders
By Briony, 63. Adelaide, SA If you were to position my brother Jerome on the autism spectrum, he would be in the mesosphere! Now, before you judge me on the title of this piece, my family are proud of Jerome’s weirdness. There was nothing bland or mediocre about him and the rest of us are… Continue reading My Weirdo Brother Jerome
By Lindsey-Jane, 70. Adelaide, SA These are just a few of the snacks and meals that we enjoyed as children in the 1950s. Today, some have been adapted to be more health-conscious for future generations, and others have simply vanished, which is a bit sad. As a child growing up in Australia in the 1950s,… Continue reading Bread and Dripping, Mushrooms, and Fresh Blackberries
By David, 84. Hackney, SA I was born in Guernsey, in the Channel Islands, not far from the French coast. In 1939, dad accepted a call to a church in Ilford, a suburb of London, because he believed the Germans would invade the Channel Islands once the war started. He was right. The German occupation… Continue reading Journey Through World War II
By Sue, 68. Aberfoyle Park, SA Hello, Miranda. Knew you'd be in sooner or later for your makeover. It was only last week at the tearooms you were praising me on the wonderful job I did on your friend Lydia. By the way, isn't the coffee and cake there to die for? Can't go there too often… Continue reading Body and Soul
By Nancy, 80. Adelaide, SA I have always had a rather unhealthy dislike of dogs. I was a cat lover. Dogs I feared and loathed. I found them dirty, smelly, and prone to nip one's ankle. I never understood dog owners' obsessions with their animals. I viewed most dog people as not quite normal when… Continue reading Smudge
By Mary, 71. Bunbury, WA Editor's note: Below are portions from a longer piece written by Mary, whose drawings and stories detail her family's life in Australia after they emigrated in 1950 to start anew in a free country with job prospects. In 1950, Irene (my mother) was pregnant with me (her second child), and… Continue reading Growing Up In Wittenoom
By Sue, 68. Aberfoyle Park, SA “This is delicious,” Marge mumbled between mouthfuls of double chocolate muffin. Every Tuesday after she and her friend Fay had finished their hour-long exercise class, they treated themselves to a coffee and muffin of the week from the cafe's specials board. “So convenient,” said Fay, “that the retirement village… Continue reading Romeo — Where Art Thou?
By Lucie Kolmer, 1916 — 2010. Adelaide, SA. Rest in peace. In April 1934, my parents, my young brother, and I left Germany on the liner Koblenz and sailed for China. I celebrated my 18th birthday onboard the ship. My brother died of kidney failure in Shanghai where we initially lived. We left Shanghai in… Continue reading Coming to Australia
By Wendy, 71. Landsdale, WA Next door to our house was a grocer’s shop which looked like a D’Arcy Doyle painting. It had big sacks full of rice, cereals, beans and dried fruits. The grocer scooped up the rice and weighed it on the scales, the rice on one side and weights on the other… Continue reading Mascot Memoir ~ Part Two
By Andy, 65. Byron Bay, NSW Woke this morning kinda listless …A rainy day again (as is the cycle at present). Brewed an espresso and sat in the feelings rather than attempt to shake them off. My mind was like a book left carelessly out in the breeze. Pages flitting, randomly stopping occasionally with the… Continue reading Morning Musings
By Lesley-Anne, 67. Christie Downs, SA It was the winter of 1963. The snow and the fog were like nothing I had ever seen. When I say fog, I mean the dense, impenetrable type where you can't see more than a few inches in front of you. There was nothing wispy or ethereal about this… Continue reading Fog Bound
By Wendy, 71. Landsdale, WA I remember when we lived at my father’s shop in Botany Road and my parents let me climb out the upstairs window onto the tin roof when the queen came along the road in 1954. Out the back of the shop, my mother had a copper, a washboard, a cane… Continue reading Mascot Memoir ~ Part One
By Andy, 65. Byron Bay, NSW Hmmm when was this? Let's see ... I must have been back from India for quite a while. Months. Years maybe. I was living in Byron Bay as I remember being on the beach a lot, just lying in the sun or practicing harmonic throat singing. Of course, plenty… Continue reading Sea Eagle
By Lindsey-Jane, 70. Adelaide, SA I told you this chapter would be coming soon, didn't I? Well, it’s all about visiting the dentist in the '50s. There were many delightful aspects of living in the '50s, but a visit to the dentist in that era was definitely not one of them. The six-monthly dental visit… Continue reading The Dreaded Dentist
By Beverley, 73. Melbourne, VIC From under lowered lashes I watched for him. I sat with a clear view of the entrance to his family’s tent — nothing could escape me. We’d only been at the beach for a short time when I noticed him outside the tent, which was near our caravan. We were… Continue reading The Kiss
By Nancy, 80. Adelaide, SA From the Editor: Trigger warning. The following series contains very candid, detailed, brave, and well-written accounts of what it is like to live with clinical depression. Though over the usual 1000-word limit, I have decided to publish the works in their entirety. If you or someone you know live with… Continue reading The ‘Dark Pit’
By Nancy, 79. Adelaide, SA The year was 1957. I was a mere seventeen years of age. A position had presented itself as a governess on a remote cattle station northeast of Alice Springs. I had applied and was accepted to supervise two young children, one a boy of ten and a girl of eight.… Continue reading A Memoir
By Berry, 69. Mawson Lakes, SA It sat alone on the pavement for three days.Marked brown wood, curved back, cracked sagging vinyl seat.My anxiety rose each time I saw it through the window or open doorAnger marked my face.Resentment curved my back.Hurt and insult sagged my soulWhen did mutual respect change to frustration and thoughtlessness?It… Continue reading The Chair
By Lindsey-Jane, 70. Adelaide, SA Way back in the '50s, we had FJ Holden cars, doctors who paid house calls, and postmen who actually delivered twice a day (and what's more, blew a whistle to announce their arrival!) Remember these things? Do you also remember women wearing hats and gloves to church or even to go… Continue reading Bodgies, Widgies, Steam Trains, and Stiff Petticoats
By Denese, 74. Adelaide, SA Cathy disliked reunions intensely. Under sufferance she’d gone to the art school reunion last year and was astonished that the only practicing artists making money from their work were those who'd shown absolutely no talent whatsoever during their four years of tuition. But a school reunion? Ughh! The thought made… Continue reading A Survivor of ’84
By Tessa, 65. Somers, VIC It came as a shock. Mid-morning, I was about to make coffee. My niece had died, suddenly. It was savage. It had been six months since her mother, my sister, died. A stroke and she was gone within 24 hours. There was nothing they could do, they said. It was… Continue reading Loss and Opportunity (Que Será, Será)
By Moira, 66. Renmark West, SA Feeling the shame, Losing the calm,Carrying the blame,Needing the balm. Moving past the stress,Knowing I am loved,Wishing to blessLooking up above. Accepting limitations,Knowing I have value,Peaceful contemplations,No longer am I blue.
By Margaret, 73. Melbourne, VIC Each year my girlfriends and I have a reunion together. Once we were six. Now we are five. At Jane’s funeral, Lynne rose to deliver the eulogy. She surprised the Melbourne congregation by rotating in the pulpit in her baggy old school pinafore, salvaged from our last day of school… Continue reading For Jane