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Entry 1 - The
Cheezle Song - by Janet
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Before
last Christmas, our son Michael, then three years old, kept
on asking me to sing the "cheezle" song. Stumped,
I had no idea what song he was referring to. I certainly
didn't know any catchy advertising jingles about
Cheezles.This went on for a few weeks until we attended his Day care
Christmas party. In one corner a cassette player was
cheerfully churning out all the usual Christmas songs.
Michael suddenly became excited. "The cheezle song, The
cheezle song." Puzzled I listened to the music. The
song turned out to be "Away in a Manger". The
cheezle turned out to be the "little Lord Jesus"!
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Entry 2 - Christmas
Morning - by Cherilyn
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Sometimes, a child can encompass all their innocence and sweetness in one sentence. Despite the daily frustrations of being a parent, they can still capture our hearts in an instant.
My niece Sarah gave her mother, my sister-in-law, such a moment when she was about eleven.
It was an ordinary morning, and my s-i-l was feeling a little tired on getting up to start the day. Then Sarah got up, gave her a huge hug and said, "Mummy, you smell like Christmas morning."
And suddenly the day didn't seem so ordinary anymore.
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Entry 3 - The
Long Drive - by Jeanette |
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On a long 9 hour drive back from Esperance to Perth after Christmas my 8 month old baby would not sleep and was just not too happy the whole way. In fact she yelled for most of the trip and she has a VERY loud voice which is amplified in the small space of the car. My 4 year son turned to me halfway through the journey and said to me "Mum, can I fly down to Esperance next year?"!! |
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Entry 4 - Memory
of a Childhood Holiday - by Michelle |
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Ladies getting married in black. It would be practical as their wedding dress would be their one formal dress and thereafter could be worn to church every Sunday. These were dresses for the British brides shipped out to the Vaal Triangle in South Africa in the middle of the gold boom. They needed to be practical and hardy to survive their new lives.
I remember the guide saying this distinctly and seeing a black Victorian style dress encased in a glass cabinet. This visit to Gold Reef City was a long-awaited family holiday. It was a change from the coast where every other holiday we had been camping.
What I remember most in the reconstruction of the mining towns. All the buildings had brooky lace and looking as if they did not in any way resemble the mining towns and tents of the early days. It looked like a recreation of a British suburb. I suppose those ladies who married in black had to reconstruct their home town once their husbands had panned their gold.
The focal point of the tour for us kids was the elevator down a disused mine shaft. Who would have imagined that my sister would need to go to the toilet at that exact time. A little bit of excitement and a full bladder aren't a good combination.
Who would have imagined that I would have chosen that trip down the shaft for the onset on my claustrophobia.
It is hard to say if it is a true memory or my imagination, but I do remember shouting so loudly that I had to have the lift called up to get some fresh air. It is probably a true experience, much as my embarrased mother denies or waters it down. Whenever I recall this memory, it is tinged with a stong smell of urine.
When I look at the sepia tinted photographs taken of my family dressed up in Victorian clothes, all I remember is brooky lace and wanting to get some fresh air. |
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Entry 5 - A
Special Sausage - by Christine |
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A few years ago when my youngest child was approx 2 years old, we were visiting a friends place for a Bbq tea. All went well until the two year old decided to bring in what appeared to be a sausage to the table while we were having coffee.
Daddy was unaware of the true nature of his daughter's gift to him. That is until his sense of smell started to kick in. You guessed it . That was no ordinary sausage. Now if we could only get our son to flush, we would be guaranteed no repeat offences. |
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Entry 6 - The
Pit - by Tim |
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A friend of mine spent a few years in the army. He was recounting to us one day of his experience in the bush. The tradition at this time was to make a large pit in which to relieve themselves in. The idea was to hang behind a large stake which was hammered into the ground at the edge of the pit. This situation takes place after numerous days in the bush had passed, the conveniences had been utised many times. One day our friend found it necessary to avail himself of the facilities, as he had on many other occasions. Picture if you will, the horror on my friend's face as he felt the stake starting to give way. His two hands tightly holding onto the stake and his pants hanging around his ankles. I'm sorry to say there is no happy ending to this story, well not for him. We however have had many a chuckle at his expense. |
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Entry 7 - The
Petrol Bowser - by Paul |
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Whilst living
overseas in Singapore it always amazed me how difficult it was to
get served at a petrol station. This was about to change in a big
way. One day I pulled into a station (Unfortunately I was not alone
- Steve was with me!) and, as usual was in a rush. The
"attendants" sat outside the front door looking on with
little interest or inclination to attend. So I quickly took the cap
off, filled the car with petrol and then rushed inside to pay.
Got back in the car
and drove off - just as I pulled out we heard this almighty
"THUD" - ignored it at first - then I thought I had better
stop and look. So you can imagine the feeling in my stomach when I
pulled over about 100 metres from the station to see the
petrol bowser still sticking out of the car! I look back to the
station and I see a very animated Singaporean gentleman charging
down the road at me with a barrage of unintelligible sounds coming
from his mouth. As he arrived I simply looked at him - took the
bowser out of the car, handed it to him and drove off.
Needless to say I
never got anything but the best level of service at that station
from that day on! |
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