Keeping Cool

KEEPING COOL

Laughing, I ran at the water,
letting the cold shock my feet and legs
till bravely I ducked below the water,
screaming my joy and discomfort.
As I lay back, floating,
my nose barely above the waves,
I felt this beach and this place
enter my body, softening my muscles
and bringing me to a moment
of weightless wonder.  The sky
was an endless blue, the breeze
lulled me and the floating
seaweed tickled my nose
with its salty sharpness.
I could have stayed like this forever.
I was home and happy.

Carole Bollini

This poem is based on my memories
of visiting Ettalong Beach, Australia,
as a girl.

Linked with "The Sunday Muse - Wednesday Muse #14 Keepin' Cool"

       
       


             IMAGE:

A mild spring evening in Australia, November 6, 1954.

A huge crackling bonfire, for the celebration of Guy Fawkes Day,

known usually in Oz as simply Bonfire Night.

HAIBUN

The bonfire gathering was held in a local park, with an effigy of Guy Fawkes

on the top.  Folks gathered around the fire and the several barbecues that had been set up.  The delicious smells of roasting hot dogs and toasted

crumpets dripping with butter and honey.  The sounds of chatter and spitting fat amid a whirl of smoking air, dancing woodchips and smoldering logs.

I felt excited and comforted, being around this  blazing fire but also with my family and friends, all of us looking forward to the wonderful feast to come

and the spectacular firework display which would follow.

crackling fire burns bright

no thoughts of the man who died

just fireworks and food.

   

    Remember, remember!
    The fifth of November,
    The Gunpowder treason and plot;
    I know of no reason
    Why the Gunpowder treason
    Should ever be forgot!
    Guy Fawkes and his companions
    Did the scheme contrive,
    To blow the King and Parliament
    All up alive.

                                                  

 Perhaps most widely known in America from its use in the movie V for  Vendetta, versions of the above poem have been wide spread in England for centuries. They celebrate the foiling of a plot by a group of Catholics, among them Guy Fawkes, who attempted to blow up Protestant controlled England's House of Parliament on November 5th, 1605.  Known variously as Guy

Fawkes Day, Gunpowder Treason Day, and Fireworks Night, the November 5th

celebrations in some time periods included the burning of the Pope or Guy Fawkes in effigy.  Guy Fawkes Night is still celebrated in many former British Colonies, quite often called, simply, Bonfire Night.

Memories of My Grandparents

Australia, Memories


We had Grannie and Pa on Mum’s side and Grandma and Da on Dad’s side.

My memories of visits to both sets of grandparents have faded.  We didn’t go often,

usually only for extended family gatherings around the holidays.

Grannie was very stern in appearance.  Like many people in the 40’s and 50’s

she seemed to be about twenty years older than her chronological age.

Both she and Grandma dressed very demurely, with dresses or skirts, stockings

(and probably corsets)  I never saw either of them in pants.  This was unheard of in their society.

Grannie was a very proper English lady, transplanted to a more relaxed (read “less

refined”) Australia, on the insistence of her husband and his brother, who had

encouraged them to migrate from Liverpool, England.  She raised Mum to be polite, 

unassuming, quietly spoken  and perhaps rather diffident.  In other words, a proper English lady.  On the other hand my Grandma was first generation Australian and by nature and

upbringing much more assertive and outspoken (read “unrefined,” according to Grannie.)

The story my mother told was that the first words Grannie heard Grandma say were uttered 

in annoyance to one of the children before Grandma was aware of Grannie coming through 

the garden gate:

“Get in here, ya little devil, or I’ll smack ya bum!”

The relationship between the two went downhill from there.  Grandma always felt that 

Grannie was judging her and finding her wanting (as indeed Grannie probably was!)

Grandma held onto the belief encouraged from early childhood, that she was a musical prodigy.  She had played the piano all her life and as a young woman had held musical performances in England.  In spite of that she always had an inferiority complex when it came to her English relatives and that made her even more outspoken and brash.  Her husband, my Da, adored her and cossetted her through her many illnesses, both real and imagined.  She seemed to us 

kids to be a bit of a prima donna.

While Grannie would never dream about talking about the trials of pregnancy and the 

pains of childbirth, Grandma frequently tried guilt trips, reminding her children of the 

sickness they had caused her by being born.  Her facial expressions frequently

reflected her annoyance and ill health.

On the other hand, Grannie seemed to quietly put up with a lack of attention and

caring from her husband, a minister absorbed in his work and the adulation of his

female congregation.  She always looked calmly aloof, in control of her emotions,

dedicated to her role of providing meals and household comforts to Pa.

Memories of Growing Up in Australia

HULLO* READERS,

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

As a toddler I loved water, of any kind, baths, showers, rain, you name it. One day we'd spent several delightful (her word) hours digging holes in the sand, paddling in the waves at the edge of the sea.  Newcastle, a town at the edge of the Pacific Ocean, was our home at the time and she loved living there on
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