Friday 22nd March 2019

My Favourite Decade. 8/51. #LifeThisWeek. 18/2019.

My Favourite Decade. 8/51. #LifeThisWeek. 18/2019.

Given my age, and my so-called group status as a “Baby Boomer” it would not be a surprise to read that my favourite decade is the 1960s.

The decade where my childhood faded, and the teen years beckoned then ended with my teaching career started.

All from ages 12 to 20.

Why oh why was it the best?

I wish I had an image for each of what I remember as highlights but instead, it’s a list and there are a few back up pics.

1960.

Into a new to us Primary School that was much bigger than the one we went to in Wollongong and I had many more people to get to know and achievements to make. The best part of 1960 was having Mr Duffy as my Yr 5 teacher and knowing that I too wanted to be a teacher.

1961.

Year 6. There were two classes and there was quite a bit of competition to do well and whilst I was not as academically gifted as many I liked the ‘leadership’ aspect of Year 6 and our relative independence. We were allowed to leave the school grounds and walk to the local shops for lunch when we had money for that. I remember hot chips and a malted vanilla milk in a carton.

It was the end of year camp that was not so wonderful as my first period decided to arrive during the 10 day camp on Lake Macquarie. Never mind, no swimming, but you can write and edit the Camp Magazine. It was fun. And it was printed on a metholated spirit printer. Remember them? They were still around when I began teaching.

The BIG deal too that year was the Year 6 Farewell Dance. Oh My! Hair done, new dress selected, stockings to wear (a garter belt held up the stockings, a bra fitted, with due embarrassment, at David Jones’ city store and my first tiny heel on a shoe. Wow.

1962.

To High School. We were the cohort of the first 6 years at High School in N.S.W. for the ‘new’ Higher School Certificate as planned by the education review called the Wyndham Scheme. We were indeed guinea pigs but off to the almost brand new single sex public school Manly Girls High, I went. I was put in the top class and there were a total of 7 or 8 classes per year. Getting to know new friends and to go to sport at a local swimming pool and to work with a timetable and catching a bus to school was all part of this time.

1963.

My social life was more fun than school but still I persisted. I would have preferred French and Art as my 2 picks for subjects added to the compulsory four but my dad insisted on French and German for the matriculation purposes in Year 12. But even though it was not as clear as that I complied. I was still part of Girl Guides but not devoted at all and went on a pretty wet camp south of Wollongong. I left Guides once I could. I also began teaching Sunday School. I like little kids and the idea of teaching. I was not as enamoured with the church side of it.

1964.

More independence and I began regular paid evening baby sitting gigs which I continued with the same family till I left for my first teaching appointment. I also began doing some school holiday office duties at Dad’s work. I sure was not interested in helping Mum much. I did a typing course at night in Manly where it was safe for me to catch a bus home in the evening. I went to an after school Ballroom Dancing class each week (i.e. meeting boys class) and my first boyfriend was from the local boys’ school. Ah Col. We had some good times and I got my first friendship ring the next year.

I went to see the Beatles in June with my friend and my brother. It was amazing to actually see, not so much hear, the Beatles.

I began collecting records. Dad was keen on all music and I could play my 45s (the small ones) and my 33s (the big ones) on the family stereo.

I got my first transistor radio and was glued to the evening shows with Mike Walsh and won prizes as I was quick on the phone. Yes I “was” doing homework but could multi-task!

1965.

A big year. Well, that was how it was made out and in terms of the new 6 years of school it was. We had to sit an external examination  called The School Certificate. In completing the School Certificate, the plan was that unless you wanted to go to University, Teachers’ College, enter Nursing or Secretarial College,  then you left school at the end of Year 10 to do an apprenticeship or go to a job. About 2/3 of the whole Year 10 would have left. It was a big shock doing our first external examination to find that the “one” compulsory component – poetry – of the English paper was not one I had prepared for nor knew much about it. Neverthless I passed all of my subjects, and we celebrated with parties at people’s places.

It was the year Sound of Music was released and more movies that genre were about: Doctor Zhivago, My Fair Lady, and so on. When we went to the movies, there was always a double feature with the main movie starting second after interval. I had a new boyfriend by the beginning of the next year, and we met via the social group at Manly Presbyterian Church.

1966.

Again social life precedes school life but the existed side-by-side thanks to joining forces with the local boys’ high schools to appear in a Gilbert and Sullivan Show, and to attend dances. Of course. Greater independence as some of the boys now had cars was for me to be ‘dropped’ by Mum or Dad into Manly on a Sunday afternoon and attend the social/church event and afterwards to go to a local coffee shop. Very trendy.

I continued to do some holiday work for Dad, and to babysit but social life aka love life beckoned more. It was during Year 11 that we of the first to do the HSC got to select and wear a senior uniform and to have some freedom with some teaching time off for ‘study.’ I was active in the School Magazine and social events but came down with a crash when my Year 11 results were not exactly stunning.

I moved on….to

1967.

Ah, a big year and one in which the boyfriend and I split (bye Rob) and hello Stu. Met through the same place. Good old Manly Presbyterian Church Fellowship. This one was already at Uni! He had completed the last of the Leaving Certificate (like my never yet met husband) and was doing Ag Science at Sydney Uni. He had a car. He lived at home with the friendly younger brother and his mum. My younger brother got to meet his, and with their neighbourhood friends, THESE blokes are still mates! Me, broken up with the bf in 1970 …another story for another time. Oh yes, here it is here.

This year was when I got my licence: P’s, could borrow Mum’s car, had more social engagements inclyuding Uni balls, and then realised I needed to put my head down to actually study in the lead up to the H.S.C. It worked, and in saying that it was a slight disappointment that I did not get a NSW Dept of Education scholarship in the first round of offers, but early in 1968.

Meanwhile from end of H.S.C. in November my father had secured a job interview for me (thanks Dad, not!) and in early December 1967 instead of holidaying like my friends, I began as a filing clerk in the human resources section of the A.B.C. in Elizabeth St. If I was happy about one part of this, I was now 18 and could meet up with bf and his mates after work and we could go to the new Wentworth Hotel, the Menzies or even the one where the Hilton is now and have a drink. I did not drink much at all but it was nice to go to those places.

1968 – 1969.

Yes, you are off the Balmain Teachers’ College: sign here to ensure your ‘bond’ of employment for 3 years after graduation and we will send you anywhere in N.S.W. as you will be a permanent teacher. And stayed that way until 2003.

I signed, our neighbour was the guarantor as was the case back then, they paid me $22 a fortnight to become a highly trained and eminently qualified teacher. It was a rigorous course: 5 days a week, every single day taken up with learning how to teach and what to teach kids aged from 5-12. Whilst I specialised in Infants teaching I qualified as a K-6 teacher. I LOVED it all. We had Wednesdays for optional activities and another arvo for sport – we had to learn what we would teach. All set in the now very posh (but not then) suburb of Balmain where the smells of making soaps at the local Colgate factory as well as the plumes from the coal-fired electricity plants at White Bay.

My social life continued with many activities based around our mutual friends’ birthdays. 21st parties were huge. As were Sydney Uni and NSW Uni Balls. I think I went to at least 4 in a year. New dress, please Mum! And I was lucky. Mum kept me looking good by being my accesory and ally in clothes shopping and hair dressing appointments.

School was even more part of my life. We did 2 pracs each year, a prac of our choice at the beginning of the second year after Christmas holidays and we also attended the North Sydney Dem School to watch selected experienced teachers and learn from them. I did well at Prac. I loved it. I had wanted to do this for a very long time and now I was.

I got to do pracs at my old primary school: Balgowlah Hts – Yr 3 and Yr 2, Mona Vale P.S. – Kinder, Neutral Bay Yr 1 and North Sydney Dem Year 2 (I was given this prac as my teaching and preparation was excellent and the Dem school was a prized place.

Graduation was formal. My parents and boyfriend attended. He had finished his Bachelor of Ag Science and was looking for work in North-western NSW. He landed a job at Tamworth. In the school holidays at the end of 1969 into 1970, my preferred teaching place came for me. I accepted: a North-western NSW country town called Barraba: about 45 minutes from Tamworth. To find out what happened next: go here. I have already written about it!

That is why 1960s was/is my favourite decade!

What is yours?

Denyse.

I join in these two other Monday Link Ups from Australian Bloggers.

Alicia is at One Mother Hen here for Open Slather and Kell is here at All Mum Said for Mummy Mondays. Go over and link up there too!

You can link up something old or new, just come on in. * Please add just ONE post each week! * Feel free to go with the prompt for the week to add your ‘take’ on the prompt. Or not. * Please do stay to comment on my post as I always reply and it’s a bloggy thing to do! * Check out what others are up to by leaving a comment because we all love our comments, right! * Add a link back to this blog in your post somewhere. I don’t have a ‘button’ so a link in text is fine! *Posts deemed by me, the owner of the blog and the link-up, to be unsuitable for my audience will be deleted without notice. * THANK you for linking up today!

Next week’s optional prompt is: 9/51. Taking Stock. 4/3/19.
Inlinkz Link Party

 

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Share Your Snaps #1. 5/51. #LifeThisWeek 12/2019.

Share Your Snaps #1. 5/51. #LifeThisWeek 12/2019.

Welcome to the fifth optional prompt for #LifeThisWeek:

Share Your Snaps

Every 5th week is is photo-centred post. Not wordless for me, however, because….just because!

Let’s meander down January’s memories:

Oh MY goodness it is great to eat real food again. This took a LOT longer to eat than before I had cancer but it was wonderful.

 

My 6th grandchild & 4th granddaughter at ‘her’ dressing table which was mine as a teen, then stayed at home for Mum to use till 2007 and then given to my daughter’s family. It “still” has the Sydney Uni transfer on mirror I put there in 1969. because that was where my boyfriend at the time went.

 

And Pennant Hills Road Sydney…I missed you (not)…on my way to M2 to get to Westmead for a January mouth check.

 

Blogger, Author and Appearance Activist Carly Findlay’s book is here. Launches are occurring all around Australia. I first heard and met Carly at the Inaugural Aussie Bloggers’ Conference in 2011. My copy, on pre-order, is being read by me now. An excellent memoir.

 

On our way to see the family for our grandson’s 18th we drove through roads and streets not seen before: with buildings and shops and houses and apartments and this: a new school! Wow we thought.

 

And a week later we got some pleasing news. Our daughter, teacher-librarian, has been appointed to this brand new school and her youngest has started there too now. Here is the library (only one part!).

 

What an amazing courtyard, and space! It’s a brand new Public School at North Kellyville. We once lived in Kellyville and the land on which the school is built was grazing and acre blocks. So much has happened development-wise since we left north-west Sydney 4 years ago.

 

I miss the white/ pale pink frangipanis we had at the previous rental house but am definitely attracted to the colourful ones these days so when I saw these on a drive through The Entrance I HAD to stop and capture their beauty.

 

This map of Australia caught my attention and that of many when it was re-published by me on Australia Day. Each coloured section represents a country for the original custodians of the land. The Aboriginal people we lived with and taught helped us to learn far more than we might have any other way.

 

Toothless again. It was temporary and of course, on a break from the prosthodontist chair I took a selfie. Just goes to show how much upper teeth make my smile.

 

An unusual spot for me on this trip to Sydney for our grandson’s 18th Birthday lunch. I am in the passenger seat and got to film crossing the Hawkesbury River bridge. It is a marker of sorts for me of leaving the coast and heading to the big smoke.

 

Dad: I came to share some food goodies and meals for his freezer just a few days after his 95th birthday. He is on his balcony pointing to the BIG complex that Dee Why RSL is building on the border of the Independent Retirement Complex where he has lived contentedly for almost 8 years.

 

After buying Dad’s house in 2011 we knew the architect owners would eventually renovate it. It still has come to a shock to all of the family how different it looks already. That is progress of course. Dad is not keen on seeing the updates.

 

Early January I had an unexpected visit to Chris O’Brien Lifehouse (image of the late Prof here) to have some extra skin growth check by my Professor. It is all OK but that day was a wake-up to reality for me. Anytime something “is” different it will be checked to see if it is “cancer”.

Today, Monday 4 February 2019, is World Cancer Day.

Catch up on more here. 

I hope that if  you or anyone you know  does have a cancer diagnosis you would be aware of the many more successful treatments and prognoses these days. It does, of course, depend on the type and stage of cancer when diagnosed. It doesn’t detract from the seriousness of course but to someone who has been through my recent cancer experiences I have found out more than I ever thought possible about a cancer diagnosis.

Best wishes to you all this coming month.

Denyse.

 

You can link up something old or new, just come on in. * Please add just ONE post each week! * Feel free to go with the prompt for the week to add your ‘take’ on the prompt. Or not. * Please do stay to comment on my post as I always reply and it’s a bloggy thing to do! * Check out what others are up to by leaving a comment because we all love our comments, right! * Add a link back to this blog in your post somewhere. I don’t have a ‘button’ so a link in text is fine! *Posts deemed by me, the owner of the blog and the link-up, to be unsuitable for my audience will be deleted without notice. * THANK you for linking up today!

Joining Alicia here for Open Slather and Kell here for Mummy Mondays.

Next Week’s Optional Prompt: 6/51. My Worst Purchase. 11/2/19.


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Telling My Story. Chapter Seven. 1972-1975. 2018.112.

Telling My Story. Chapter Seven. 1972-1975. 2018.112.

Where has this month gone? I have sort of made a promise to myself to add another chapter each month but then I realise this is the second post in October. All that aside, I think I am delaying writing and for no other reason than I am a bit worn out.

However, I am a determined person and I do well with deadlines, so off I go.

Telling My Story. The Early Mothering Years. 

Back to School. For Me.

For someone who longed to be a mother it may seem strange that I did not enjoy staying home with my child. However, I tell it as it is and know that time and time again, for me, I have been better off going to school and working. As long as I had care for my child I knew would be great, then I could get on with my work and be more content.

As we lived in the rural area outside Narrabri and I was to return to teaching in the 2 teacher-school where I had begun after our marriage, it was a great and generous offer that was made by my boss’ wife. She said she would happily mind our daughter as she was home with her 4th who was a few months older. That was a great way for me to feel better about what I was doing. We had no real dramas and M, who was our daughter’s godmother, was a motherly soul who had a lot of time for us. Some days, when I was on playground duty, she would appear on the grassy area with both her charges as they had their house next to the school.

I was someone who had gone back to her first love: teaching little kids. It may have been a bit of a struggle at times but with a very hands-on and caring father, our daughter did not miss out. We managed to out on a sweet first birthday party for local friends and family arrived from Sydney. By the end of that year though there was more new.

We Were Off To a New Area To Live and Teach.

In ‘those days’ with the Department of Education, the husband’s job took precedence on transfer over the wife’s. In a little aside where I can tell you the regret is strong…we also took up the option in that first year of parenting for me to withdraw from my State Super Fund because “only the husband will need the pension and you will have his”. Stay tuned for future chapters where R E G R E T is the word!

A big reason my husband wanted to transfer (as did I but I had not served the minimum of 3 years yet) was to another one teacher school but with a SCHOOL RESIDENCE. Where we were living was “ok” but it was relatively primitive compared to the 4 bedroom brick bungalow with garage and a yard next to the school. We left our daughter with my parents in Sydney that Christmas Holidays in the January and with our then two cars, we went back to the old place, and packed and as the Department was paying for the move, I think we arranged for that to happen for our furniture etc without us being there.

Arrival at the ‘new-to-us’ school residence….and in backyard, former occupant of said-residence with former teacher. Roo poo ain’t fun and this one was also aggressive. Glad he hopped away.

We met the Furniture truck after their long trek from one end of N.S.W. to another in a hot summer and we had Mum and our daughter with us too.

The weather was hot. So hot, we tell the story of my mother drinking beer in the wee hours to try to cool down. In the meantime, my Dad in Sydney was trying to get a cooler of some sorts sent to us by train but they were all sold out. We eventually got one but none of us have forgotten that January.

Where Will Denyse Teach? Who Will Care For Our Daughter?

We were now proud owners of one car. A new one with the new fangled air conditioning in it. It didn’t really work. Sigh. My husband had his new school of kids from 5 to 12 to get ready for but I was still school-less. That was when we knew we had a professional contact who was also a friend….who had been my deputy in my first school and was now the principal in the town some 40 kms away. We rang him. “Oh”, he said, “good news, I need a new Kindergarten teacher as one is on leave”. I can fix that with the Department. He did. So good. Such a mate too, along with his wife. We had been to each other’s weddings in early 1971 in Sydney. But wait. One more question. “Who will mind our 18 month old?” “No problem, I will ask (J) the primary AP if his wife wants to mind a child as her kids are all at school.” He did. She said yes and for the next 2 years our daughter became a 5th child (and spoiled one too) in that family.

Wonderful Three Years In a Great Community.

Off I drove to H every school day, dropping Miss K to her loving surrogate family, and I was able to do my job. It was a great rural community and lively with activity and positivity. Whilst my husband’s school was some 40 minutes south, he also became involved in this town.

Here are some things we did:

  • We became electoral officials one year at a tiny place (I won’t name it) where the road to Hay crossed it. It was a very slow day – 8.00 a.m. to 8.00 p.m. in those days in a hot country hall. I cannot remember who won but I remember we did not offer to do that again. Counting the votes with scrutineers in a closed space, and waiting for the number to tally…is hard yards.
  • My husband and some of the town’s folk and teaching/office staff formed a Drama Society and put on Musicals (Gilbert and Sullivan)…an aside, I auditioned for a role, and the producer did not let me have it. He said “I needed to be at home”….because of night-time practices…. with our daughter. He did “offer” me a chorus role but I rejected it. Mind you the production was superb and I was a very happy audience member.
  • We often held impromptu parties and dinners at our place for the couples and any stray singles from the school where I taught. As we had put an above-ground pool in (summers were brutal) we rewarded those who helped with dinners for a while.
  • In 1974 “we” were the ones who got Colour T.V. I wrote about that in another post. We sure were popular but we loved having T.V. nights.
  • We also went back to the town on Movie nights when they were held at the school
  • We got to have weekends away. By ourselves. We had, as I said above, a wonderful family caring for our daughter during the week and they offered to have her for us to go away and she was fine. In fact, I do recall her crying to come home. As in “I don’t want to come home because all the kids are here”.
  • My husband started study via distance to gain a new qualification in teaching and he also added an inspection from a School Inspector to get First List. Back in the day this was how promotions to new roles happened. My husband was looking to become a small school principal – one with 2 or more staff. More on that later.

This daughter of ours had it all! A tent, a swing set, a dinky with a trailer and a cat. But no-one to play with…except Dad!

School Holidays.

Most of these were back at my parents’ house (free, by the beach AND they loved having our daughter stay) and we took time to shop and relax and sometimes have a little break just for us. We went to shows and the movies – the drive-in was the best – and I recall how much we loved Blazing Saddles. Still do. This was at Frenchs Forest which is slowly been eaten up by development.

We visited family and friends. We went out for dinner. We got supplies for our classrooms from that wonderful place called Dominie and slowly we wended our way back to the bush. Only in the school holidays preceding our 3rd year, we purchased the best.car.we.had.ever.seen. Well, maybe that is an exaggeration but it was a wonderfully comfortable car with PROPER air conditioning and it was LIME green. A Toyota Crown.

At Mum and Dad’s where we holidayed each school hols from 1971-1978. Miss K, the apple of their eye.

Sadder Times.

It was around the middle of the three year stay in this area that we decided to try for our second child. So easily pregnant with Miss K, we were saddened, over many months, that I was not with child. My weight ballooned from stress-eating (or calming eating!) and I cried each month. Our G.P. decided I needed to see a specialist in the regional town some distance away – probably 45-50 minutes. There I went, on a sad but true journey to disappointment and heartache. Tests showed I was rejecting my husband’s sperm. I had a salpingogram without anaesthetic to check the fallopian tubes and I have never had worse pain after. Nothing seemed wrong there.

Then with my heart soaring and my fingers counting since the last menstrual period, I thought I was pregnant. It was a time well over the usual 28-30 days. Almost to the point of having a test (it was nothing like it is now back in the mid 1970s) I began to bleed. At school. I was heart-broken and someone took me to the cottage hospital where the G.P. sadly said he could not tell if I had been pregnant but now, I was not.

That was it.

For then. It played on my mind for some time, and it took every ounce of courage I had to enjoy seeing friends and colleagues’ families grow. But not ours. Mind you, we had a gorgeous bright little girl and my husband had a new job.

As an Acting Principal.

Off We Went. Again.

More to come of THIS particular time in Chapter Eight.

Have you lived in different places?

Tell me more in the comments.

Denyse.

 

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My Hairstyle History. #LifeThisWeek 34/52. 2018.78.

My Hairstyle History. #LifeThisWeek 34/52. 2018.78.

Hair is so important to we humans. It keeps our heads covered and warm…and we often hope, in some way attractive to others and to feel good. I know that many of us, looking for a radical shift in mood or life change, will “do something to our hair”. I have but never quite as drastic as perhaps when I was a very young mum.

I have seen people I know having life changes – a job is left, a partner walks out or just for the heck of it…and a new ‘do or colour means… hair is the way to deal with things. That is my take anyway.

About my hairstyle history. I had pretty strict parents who were practical. My hair was kept short but sometimes adorned with ribbons. I do not recall having a say in my hairstyle from ages 0 to around 10/12. Then, of course, it is hitting peer group importance time and a girl (that is the only perspective I can take!) will want to look cool but also follow trends.

In my teens until I left home at 20 I had a variety of lengths but no longer could Mum or Dad convince me to keep it short. It was at the height of teasing, big up dos and formals that I used to spend SO much time at the hairdressers prior to these. IF I was trying to do my hair at home, I would use rollers and then sit on the bed with the hairdryer bonnet blowing hot air onto my skull.

Married after my first year of teaching my hair was very long, almost down to my waist at the back. Very simple style on our wedding day.

Wedding Day 1971. Dad, Mum, Bro, Gran, B & Me, Poppy, Papa

Mum had a long-standing weekly hair appointment for a trim/blow dry and style from the time I remember. She also had her various hair dressers dye her hair and perm it. Until she was 82, this was her routine. She was dying of cancer then (we did not know yet) and did not want people to see her, so my SIL and I washed and dried Mum’s hair. It was a poor effort and I always regret not being more careful. Mum had ear troubles all her life and she could not get water into her ears so always washed her hair at home before going to the hairdresser. A really sad memory for me, is when Mum was in palliative care, a nurse brusquely put Mum into the shower, wetting her hair to wash it and water went in her ears. Mum was INDIGNANT…and it was one of the last times she would speak. She died 8 days later.

Mum and Dad – 60 years wed. 2.11.2006. Sadly Mum became very ill and passed away in March 2007. The last time Mum’s hairdresser did her hair.

So, I have been a teacher for eons. And if you did not already know, when the school photographers come to schools, teachers get a set of freebies. Individual photos and with the staff and the class. So, a lot of this next group are from those years. I too, like Mum, had regular appointments with the hairdresser but mine were spread out! Around 6 weeks for a cut, and a colour.  Sometimes I went to the blonde end of the “mousey brown which needs changing” or to the browner end. I let the grey in after spending far too much money and time having it covered. I used to have perms. Who didn’t? Oh. Not you?

Once I was into my early 60s I had less money to spend on my hair and to be truthful was over spending time to cover what grey was showing. It took some convincing of my long-time Sydney hairdresser to ‘grow’ out the greys but it was not only liberating, it actually suits me.

My hairdresser now, Tiffany, is the best I have ever had for my short style. I “hope” I can find a suitable replacement for a few months while she is having the baby or I might be back to long hair… LOL. Never. I return to her for a cut early September and she tells me she will let me know which of the two hairdressers she has in the salon during her absence “will be better” at my hair. One thing I did not mention is cost. I pay $20 as a pensioner if I get my hair cut on a Monday or Tuesday.

Tell me about your hair!

Denyse.

You can link up something old or new, just come on in. * Please add just ONE post each week! * Feel free to go with the prompt for the week to add your ‘take’ on the prompt. Or not. * Please do stay to comment on my post as I always reply and it’s a bloggy thing to do! * Check out what others are up to by leaving a comment because we all love our comments, right! * Add a link back to this blog in your post somewhere. I don’t have a ‘button’ so a link in text is fine! *Posts deemed by me, the owner of the blog and the link-up, to be unsuitable for my audience will be deleted without notice. * THANK you for linking up today!

Next Week’s Optional Prompt: 35/52. Share Your Snaps 7. 27/8/18.


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How To Create A Mandala 2018.75.

How To Create A Mandala 2018.75.

For those readers who have followed me here and on Instagram for a couple of years, you will know how much  creating of mandalas has helped me become:

  • more mindful
  • gentler on myself as I create because I have learned it is about process not product
  • aware of the place of mandalas in nature, in buildings, and of course in design
  • somewhat addicted in the nicest possible way to create first and foremost, an original mandala
  • and later to colour it with paints, crayons, pencils, markers if I choose
  • observant of the patterns within mandalas

Today, on the blog, I am taking you on a creation of one mandala step by step.

Paper size: A5

This is but one mandala. I started like this and maybe you already remember doing this in school Maths lessons. I know I did!

I make them in all sizes now and they are my go-to for mindfulness creatively. I often have one or two in stages on my art desk.

I have asked my local library if they would like me to teach a class as a volunteer. They seem to be keen. Getting me trained to be a volunteer is taking time. I am so hoping this does happen and I can share what I love to do with others as it has helped me through….this cancer time and before that it settled my anxiety.

I am using a photo of me (with teeth!) to add to this post and to add to my ‘little booklet’ I have now created from the above photos.

Do let me know if you are going to give this a go. I would love to see your mandalas!

Denyse.

 

Joining with Kylie here for I Blog On Tuesdays
And with Sue and Leanne here for Mid-life Share the Love linky.

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Telling My Story. Chapter Four. 1970. 2018.68.

Telling My Story. Chapter Four. 1970. 2018.68.

A catch up for my readers:

In early May 2017 I began Telling My Story – after being hesitant then giving it a go, thanks to a friend who suggested writing my story “one blog post at a time“.

Deciding to begin my story! Early May 2017.

Then, as many may recall, I was diagnosed with cancer that same week. I did not announce the news till later.

MORE time went by (of course) but I knew Telling My Story would continue.

This is also the new profile photo of course!

One year post major cancer surgeries.

Leaving Sydney and Home.

After the Christmas holidays and break everyone has in an Australian summer, it was time for me to leave home!

On January 27 1970 I commenced my permanent teaching role with the N.S.W. Department of Education at Barraba Central School in North Western N.S.W. The beach and city girl gave that away to ….teach…and be closer to her then 3 year boyfriend who was now working in Tamworth.

Before that occurred: Graduation from Balmain Teacher’s College and Getting the Telegram to send me to my first school. Yes, appointments to a new school by transfer, promotion or first appointment came via a telegram until early 1980s.

I had no trepidation about leaving home and present Denyse wonders why! I think it was the excitement of independence and the love of the job I was starting..and the boyfriend being only an hour away probably helped. Well, I do know one thing about me arriving in Barraba with my parents. I had nowhere to live (yet) and just guessed it would work out.

Mum had lots of home-type things for me such as linen, I had my clothes (teaching apparel was dresses/skirts – no slacks or jeans) and my beginner’s mind!! School was the first place we visited on that long weekend in January 1970 and we found the deputy principal there sorting people out as he did us with a huge welcome and I knew I was going to be fine!

My first home-away from home. Shared Bedroom at front!

But having been given a name of a ‘lady who takes in boarders’ along with my teaching appointment we duly went to this house…and I did not quite think that was my place but, we returned to the school where we were helped again “there’s a share teacher house just over the road and I think they need another person.’ Yes! Off we went and I was in my new home. Shared bedroom with another teacher who went home on weekends and I was all OK.

Mum, apparently, who cried all the way back to Sydney Dad tells me recently. “Empty nest syndrome” had probably not been invented then, but in 1992 I experienced it when our daughter left home.

Dad and Mum in 1990s

Beginning My Career as a Teacher. 

In the overall scheme of things I did really well in my first year of teaching but as most people know, you tend to learn more once you are IN the classroom than when you are trained. I give my training at Balmain Teachers College full credit in how we were taught how to TEACH the basic of literacy and numeracy. We “did” every subject that was in the curriculum and it was a superior model compared to how I saw others being trained in the years following.

My training speciality was Infants teaching. K-2. However as time went on in our N.S.W. education system, this qualification was made K-6 so I could have taught in a primary school setting  too. It is important to note this as specialities were needed and I know my love of and for learning of young kids stays with me today as a passion.

What I Found Out About Myself in My First Year of Independence.

I really am stretching the brain cells to go back to the young woman (almost said girl) of just 20 years of age. I was away from living at home for the first time in my life. I was not, as I recall, wonderful at keeping house because I had been pretty spoiled living with Mum and Dad.

So to be part of a teacher-share house meant a roster for cooking and cleaning. I was also responsible for my own washing. In this town the water was pretty putrid so I used to ‘wash’ …OK Mum used to ‘wash’ my linen etc when I took it back to Sydney every few weeks. How come, you ask? The Deputy Principal of the school (someone I admire greatly and his influence on me as a teacher was a good one) was engaged to a lovely Nursing sister who, it turned out lived a few suburbs away from my parents. Terry, the DP, would drive down on a Friday night after school (about a 4-6 hour trip back then down the New England Highway, and I would be picked up from a central point by my parents and spend time at home and getting the washing done and probably knowing Mum, some home-made treats to take back. Terry used me mostly as a companionable co-driver and that was fine.

I experienced my first (and only) relationship break up in the first school holidays that year. My long term boyfriend (3 years) had not loved his new career at Tamworth and was going through some pretty anxious times and he called off our relationship. Yes I cried but over time, I saw some good things about it. In fact, it gave me a better focus on the school teaching community and the fun we could have as young people as a group outside school hours.

We had drinks at the local golf club, we drove to the coast down the Great Dividing Range for a weekend at Port Macquarie, we staged dinner parties at each other’s houses and of course we supported each other at the K-12 school. It was a year of growth and friendships made. I coached the boys’ basketball team. I had no idea but apparently they went well. I was even encouraged to enter the Miss Australia quest representing Barraba along with another girl and had a day or two in Tamworth to take part in the judging and then the Presentation Ball that night.

For those who want to know..I am 3rd from left. Short! A tall person won!

In a teacher’s first year back then, an Inspector of Schools came to the class to watch me teach, talk to me and then as I was successful, I had a report written about me and what he saw and that led to permanency. An excerpt:

Miss Simpson approaches her work in a sincere manner and her  lively personality enables her to manage a combined group (K/1) in a capable manner. Control does not present any problem and her classroom activities proceed smoothly as a result of detailed programming and thoughtful preparation. Full use is made of the available display space in order to enhance the appearance of her classroom. A good working environment is evident in her classroom

In October 1970 the NSW Teachers Federation (of course I was a member) held its first ever Country Conference in Tamworth. Tamworth was the main centre for the airlines, and good department stores and clubs – RSL and more. For my two teacher friends, Sue and Rob, and I, it was an chance to…..socialise…and maybe meet blokes? We stayed at the Travelodge and whilst I can say I “did” attend some of the day meeting, I also used the time to shop for a delightful pink pantsuit. Pants suits were the rage. That night we were ready for socialising and when we rocked up for the dinner in frocks, there was one table with some spaces. It had 5 men occupying one end and we asked if there was space for us…”of course”.

I sat at one end and this young smiling man sat at the other and I will tell you readers, our eyes DID lock…and we smiled…and then…he asked me to dance. I was nervous and trod on his toes. He WAS about a foot taller than me.

Game Over. The singles one I mean!

Love All.

A preview..of what’s to come!

I do hope you are enjoying the stories. I am quite liking having to use the memory even if trying to find the photos is more troublesome.

Denyse.

 

 

On Tuesday this posts links with Kylie here

On Wednesday this post links with Sue and Leanne here

 

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Why I Create Daily. 2018.65.

Why I Create Daily. 2018.65.

The answer to this could be…”to keep me well” or it might be….”to keep me busy” or maybe even….”because I love it”.

I reckon all are appropriate in their own way but the last nails it.

I do love it.

At times I get a bit stuck on ‘what will I create now’ but more often than not, some reflection time spent at my desk helps.

Since 2013 when I embraced the practice of creating an “Index Card a Day” via daisyyellow.com I can rarely have a day spent without something happening for me such as:

  • creating original mandalas
  • pattern making – within defined shapes e.g. square, rectangle, free form
  • painting – freehand or colouring-in my own designs – with watercolours or gouache.
  • cutting and pasting to make cards – thank you cards, best wishes, birthdays and more
  • stamping and printing on home-made cards – to personalise them

A range I did recently.

  • using my art-journalS. Yes plural. I have two sizes on the go. I have one in my bag at all times.
  • A3 books to play and create in – there have been 2 filled since I came home from hospital just over a year ago
  • A4 to do the same – at least 3 filled since hospital last year
  • and now, A5 where I am making 100 mandalas by the end of 2018
  • many of my larger-sized patterns and mandalas are laminated or framed. Member of my family have some in their houses. Others I have made into placemats for our table.

IF I feel slightly blue, a little anxious or a lot worried..it is NOT helpful to ruminate nor over-think. I used to do this a LOT until I found the power of ….the markers, the pencils, the paper and more.

In fact, just last week when I was a wee bit concerned at the drive ahead to Sydney and then a few hours of stillness in the dental prosthetist’s chair….I sat for 15 minutes and created. Instant mindfulness and anxiety dialled down enough to face the day ahead with courage and confidence.

In the past few months where my health has improved to the point of me seeking to do more I have created these for a purpose  and I have  a proposal. This is something I will outline another time, but I have approached my local library to teach a Mindful Colouring and Mandalas class. They are keen and getting back to me soon.

Many of you know how much I enjoy my beach walks and occasionally I bring home some pebbles and shells. I love playing with their textures and shapes and have made a cairn and used them in some flower pots. I also like to decorate them. My grandkids have done this too. It is COOOOOL Grandma! And when there was some greenery around and flowers at our old house, they made a great mandala.

Lastly, and this helps me set the scene sometimes. I am fortunate enough to have made a ‘creative space of my own’. At the last house we rented I had my computer in the shared living room where it was next to my husband’s desk. My art ‘stuff’ was shared in a room where we had two bunk beds for visiting grandkids. In this house, we have not made up a grandkids room in a bedroom, preferring to leave it as storage, and…my second wardrobe.

This space, in an open plan area is where I am located now for both computer and creative activities. Luckily we have lots of portable-type storage, and some on wheels and I have adapted to this space well. It might not have a great view outside as my other one did, but it is good to have everything in one place.

My retirement and then my cancer diagnosis was very much helped by my daily creating. I no longer am concerned about product as I was. I love the process. I did make a commitment as 2018 began to “create daily” and for me this is any kind of venture where I am doing something mindfully for the fun of it.

Do you create anything?
What are your areas of creativity?

Blogging is creative that is for sure!

Denyse.

Joining Kylie for I Blog on Tuesdays here.

Joining Sue and Leanne for MidLife Share The Love Linky here.

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Telling My Story. Chapter Three. 1962-69. Social Life & More. 2018.54.

Telling My Story. Chapter Three. 1962-69. Social Life & More. 2018.54.

Deciding to begin my story!

Well over as year ago I finally set upon the journey, after much encouragement I might add, of telling my life’s story via blog posts. My friend Rebecca Bowyer  who writes here recommended this way and it has worked so far. I admit though, that the May 2017 post where I started got waylaid by the most inconvenient fact of my cancer diagnosis in the same month.

Being a truth-teller and someone who likes to be updating photos and knowledge, I wondered if I might add a new photo which is based on the me now. Here it is.

One year post major cancer surgery.

The Social Aspects of My Teens 1962-1969.

I am really delving into the memory bank now and what I come up with may not be in chronological order!

Music, The Radio and More.

When I was 13 I was lucky, oh so lucky, to become the owner of a portable transistor radio. It was light blue plastic, covered with  brown leather protection. It ran on batteries. It had a shoulder strap so I could carry it. I cannot recall if it had a power cord. BUT, I was in teen heaven with it. My Dad really understood my love of all things teen music (he was enamoured with the jazz musicians and big bands of the 1930s and 40s. Mum was never into music even though she was an awesome dancer. I wonder if her hearing loss after giving  birth twice made her less than keen on music. She was, however, a BIG fan of something I never was…talk back radio (told you I would get ahead of myself) and for Mum and Dad’s 60th Wedding Anniversary in 2006 broadcaster Alan Jones wished Mum and Dad all the best. Gosh. I can’t believe I wrote that.

Mum and Dad – 60 years wed. 2.11.2006. Sadly Mum became very ill and passed away in March 2007.

When I was this age I had already begun babysitting for our neighbours and I know it went well because I got weekly gigs and paid well. It helped with pocket money for the canteen at school. And for purchasing records – 45s at the local music shop. My first record was the Beatles Love Me Do and when I was 14 I was incredibly lucky to be in the audience of the screaming thousands to listen (ha!) and see (almost ha!) The Beatles live in Sydney in 1964. Again I credit Dad with that!

We had a two storey house and the main living was upstairs – hilly block. Mum would be cooking dinner and I was, supposedly downstairs studying. I have no idea where my younger brother was. But as I ahem studied I had my radio tuned to 2SM, the Good Guys (Mike Walsh was a good guy) where on the very rare occasion I would ring and win a prize of a movie pass. We had a phone downstairs!!

On a sloping block Mum and Dad’s house had entry at street level and then it went downstairs to another level.

Around the age of 16 my friend Sue and I managed to get to be winners of a competition to be part of Ward ‘Pally’ Austin’s program on a Saturday afternoon. We liked his panel operator, Warrick more than Ward. But we both got to chat and I chose a record list for the afternoon. Ward drove both of us across the Harbour Bridge in his top down E-type white jag and then dropped as at North Sydney to get our bus home. O.M.G. famous. OK, there are people who will have different memories of Ward but he was fine with us and we enjoyed our 30 minutes of fame.

The playlist from my appearance on 2UW

History I Remember.

It might not be social but I recall very significant events which were now, for the main part, televised after we had heard about them on the radio. The assassination of John F Kennedy was a landmark. Then later on his brother and Martin Luther Kind Jr. We felt glad to be ‘isolated’ in Australia. Of course, I have to mention the Prime Minister Harold Holt who went into the surf one Sunday on Victoria’s Cheviot Beach and he never returned. So many theories still abound. We watched the Vietnam War on our news stations, particularly Channel Two and This Day Tonight with Bill Peach. So many now retired journos made their start on this show and because of the Vietnam war and Mike Carlton was but one.

Of course everything was telecast in black and white and we only had 3 commercial channels and the ABC. I wrote about that here.

What I Did On The Weekends & Holidays.

In my early teens I continued in the guiding movement being part of Manly’s groups in the hall in the park above Manly Oval. I would set off via the bus with my friend who lived nearby at dusk on a Friday and we might pop over to the Wharf and watch the donuts being made and buy one. The walk to the oval was not far and we took part in the meetings. Although my parents were stalwarts of the Scouting and Cub movements in their youth and my brother followed there, I was not enamoured.

I am so NOT a camping out person, even though I did ONCE and it was a long way from home and the site at Marshall Mount became flooded. My dear Papa, who knew the area well and lived at Dapto, got a taxi out there to see if I was OK. I was…but what a sweet man he was. We returned to Sydney on the train on a dismal June afternoon and caught a ferry at peak hour back to Manly, on a very rocky ferry…we screamed a bit. I was not to know it, till Mum picked us up, that Dad too was on that ferry! I think they stopped the ferries that night according to the news as they showed what happened on our trip!

So not into guiding.

I learned ten pin bowling at Balgowlah Ten Pin. This is now where Stockland Mall is. I liked it a lot there and, you guessed it, found a boy that I liked. Sigh. Young love. I played netball with some enthusiasm as I got older and mostly because I was in a team with a group from school and we might meet up with some of the boys…I was at a girls’ school…from the high school who came to see their friends. I also found it great once I had my licence so I could get there driving Mum’s car.

We did family holidays once a year, by car, and usually to the North Coast in the (then) September holidays. We also went to Canberra once a year as Mum’s aunt lived there and we enjoyed seeing snow for the first time after going down to Cooma and I developed my love for and appreciation of Australia’s capital city.

Going to the beach was easy because the bus took me to Manly and then I could walk down the Corso and go to my favourite beach hang – North Steyne. I was not there to ogle the blonde surfer boys. I was there to meet friends and to surf. Body surf, not on a board.

On the left: me at North Steyne. On the right: me at North Steyne on the way to Fellowship. BF chopped out. For a reason.

The movies were great. Sometimes we went into the city to George Street where there were cinemas on both sides. I saw many movies there with family and friends. There were always 2 features so the main movie was after interval. You also had to stand at the end to listen to the National Anthem – God Save the Queen.

Fellowship was a youth group that met at Manly Presbyterian Church. Before I go on. Mum and Dad married in the Presbyterian church and I was christened there. I went to Sunday School. When we moved to Balgowlah Heights there was a new Congregational Church a few streets away and I began attending there because I wanted to join a choir and I started teaching Sunday School. Peak time for me was singing a solo at Christmas and my nerves were such the voice did not do justice to the carol.

I taught little kids at Sunday School. For a while.

Back to fellowship. A great way to meet people. OK, I admit it, boys. See? This is what it was like. Fellowship at St Andrew’s Manly meant something to eat, join in a discussion probably related to the scriptures and then at leaving time, join your mates at the Balgowlah Coffee Shop. And met one boyfriend there…and another where the relationship lasted 3 years: 1967-1970.

The Teen Years of 18, 19 and turning 20. 1968-1969.

Turning 17 meant: Licence gained. H.S.C. completed, birthday parties and celebrations attended, training in typing (Dad insisted I did a course at Manly Evening College in Wentworth St, above the old Library) and I admit it helps me to this day to know how to almost-touch type. He also made me do shorthand in the January before I got my teacher’s college scholarship and I hated that. Off to be a teacher instead. Yay. More about that next chapter.

Very proud of this…and on first go!

In 5th Form (Yr 11) in a Gilbert & Sullivan Show with the Boys’ HS. Look who has her mouth open. Unsurprising.

Turning 18 and onto 19 and 20: at teacher’s college, doing 5 pracs over 2 years, attending Winter and Summer balls at both Sydney Uni and NSW Uni thanks to boyfriend being a Syd Uni student, parties most weekends for someone’s 21st as he was one year older than me, enjoying LIFE, loving independence even though I still lived at home, going on bush-based holidays and beach ones too thanks to the boyfriend’s family.

Wesley College Ball at Sydney Uni (left) and Bacchus Ball #3 for me, Uni NSW right.

So proud of “me now” posting pic of “me then”. Terrigal Beach 1968

Life took a more serious but exciting turn for me at the beginning of 1970 and that is where Chapter Four will go.

I hope that this trip down my memory lane is of interest.

I have been quite amazed at how some memories come back easily. I am also pleased I made some sort of memorabilia after carting around boxes of ‘stuff’ for years as we moved house as  young married teachers…but that is for another time.

Denyse.

On Tuesday this posts links with Kylie here

On Wednesday this post links with Sue and Leanne here

On Thursday this post links with Leanne here.

 

 

 

 

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