I left Australia, with my first husband, in the mid 1960's, to come to America for maybe
a three week vacation, or, if one of us was lucky enough to find a job, for maybe a year or two.
Fifty years later I'm still living here, without the first husband, who died too young, but with my
second husband, in the Appalachian mountains.
This is my account of a long life of memories and impressions of Australia and America.
My early childhood to my early adulthood as a young bride was spent in Sydney. In my 20's
my husband and I came to the U.S. so the rest of my account is set here.Since I'm approaching my second childhood now, the memories are more sporadic and fainter.
(Darn it, should have done my memoir 10 years ago when I could still access most of my mind.)
However, I do still have some distinct images and impressions, so here goes.
The first few stories come second hand, from Mum's memories.
IN THE SEA
a hill, while my father was away in the army. She had dried and dressed me and was packing up our picnic things when she turned back and found I'd
disappeared. Panicking, she searched the beach for one heart-stopping
moment till she saw me happily paddling again, fully clothed, in the waves.
HYGIENE
Mum always impressed upon me, from the age I could walk and talk, that it was very important to
wash one's hands before eating. As I was generally an obedient child at that time, I always tried
to do that. One day we were out doing our shopping (marketing) and Mum was going to give me a sweet (candy) for being a good girl. Before she could stop me I had squatted down and washed my hands in a puddle on the footpath (sidewalk.)
DO AS I TELL YOU!
This story that Mum told shows me that my mother was a very sensible parent.
My Grannie was visiting one day when I was five and I decided to help Mum get our afternoon
tea ready. I had gone to our icebox (early version of a refrigerator) which was kept on the
verandah (porch) looking for some biscuits (cookies.) I found them and came back into the
kitchen, leaving the icebox door open. Grannie saw this and told Mum to tell me to close
the door. Now that I was four and becoming quite independent, I hated doing what someone
had told me to do, so I said "no," of course. Grannie became indignant at this insurgency and told
Mum to slap me for being bad. Instead, Mum calmly insisted with her "request"for some minutes, saying "yes"every time I said "no!" Finally, I very grudgingly obeyed, but slammed the door
shut to express my annoyance. Grannie became indignant again and told Mum that she
should slap me. Mum told Grannie that I had, in the end, obeyed, but it was healthier to allow
me to let off steam. Whenever I had a tantrum because I didn't get my way, Mum would hustle
me out to the back verandah where I could lie down and drum my heels on the floor till I was
exhausted and pliant again. She always said if I had to yell and drum to let off steam, at least I
should do it where I couldn't disturb anyone. Sensible woman.
OBEDIENCE
“Do what I tell you to.
Shut that door!”
Mum said one day when I was four.
I said “No!” Mum said
“Yes.”
Grannie said “smack that naughty little child.”
Grannie said “Do what your mother tells you to.
Shut that door!” I
said “No!”
Mum calmly said “Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
Cowed at last, I slammed it shut.
Grannie said, “Naughty girl should be smacked,”
But Mum said “No, she did obey at last,
she’s grumpy and needs to let off steam.”
Mum said, “Go outside and yell if you want.”
But I grinned at her and I said, “No!”
* see https://forum.duolingo.com/comment/5236783/What-are-some-differences-
between-American-British-and-Australian-English
Sacred Grounds, Sao Paulo, Brazil
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