The pool...

When I was young, I had asthma, and the doctor recommended swimming.  Grandma (who lived just a few doors away) loaned my parents the money to have an inground pool put in.  Many years of joy came from that pool, and it did help my asthma...



"It's so nice to have the pool to ourselves, Val."

"I love it, Brian - best decision ever!"

The school lunches...

Some things in life just have to wait...



"Come back to bed, love..."

"But who'll make the school lunches, silly?"






Back to bed for a quick cuddle before the kids get up...

Mother's Day with Val and Brian (aka Mum & Dad)...

I remember my parents as always being affectionate with each other, right up to Mum's death in 1997 - forty-two years of marriage.  In these vignettes, I pay homage to that aspect of their marriage...



A quick check on the children, then quickly back to bed to await the forgotten food on the breakfast tray...





Breakfast in bed - "Happy Mother's Day Mum!"

"Where's mine?" asks Dad, ever hopeful...

Prelude to a blog...

I was born in 1959, in Brisbane, the capital city of Queensland, Australia.  It was a time of boom, after the Depression and war years.  In 1974, Brisbane was hit by a great flood, and our house on the Brisbane River was right in the line of fire.  We lost precious photographs, amongst other things, which can never be replaced, because we didn't believe the river would rise as high as it did.  We managed to pack clothes and things, but I'm sure my parents would have preferred to have taken the photos and slides that were tucked away in the hall cupboard, forgotten...

Recently, I had my beloved Sindy doll stolen - one evacuee from the flood, who I'd taken the time to pack, along with a couple of other dolls, my school uniform and books for the coming school year (at the insistence of my mother, who said I couldn't just take toys).  After I found my doll was missing, I searched for (and found) her replacement (not that you can ever really replace your original), dressed in the original outfit, which had been lost in the flood all those years ago.  The joy I felt from that purchase filled me to overflowing, and I started to pay her more attention than my old doll had had since I'd grown up.  I thought I was too old to play with dolls.  Boy, was I wrong!

This led to the discovery of Barbie - a doll I'd never owned as a child, as they were American and we tended to go for all things English at the time, being so connected to the Empire as a Commonwealth Nation.  American television (and its ensuing advertisements) hadn't really reached our shores at that time.  What a thrill it was to discover this gorgeous doll - born the same month and year I was.  I found that many of the earlier 1960s Barbies bore an uncanny resemblance to my parents and their friends, and wore clothes I remember them wearing.  This led me to look out for a group of people we spent the most time with.  I found dolls that not only looked like the people they represented, but also had characteristics that made them more personally associated with their human counterparts.

For instance, one of my parents' friends was beaten by her husband (something we didn't discover until after he'd died).  The doll version has marks and small chips on her body, and the same beautiful curly auburn hair.

The dolls I found to represent my parents were dressed in tennis whites and came together as a pair.  The Barbie was a Fashion Queen wig doll, and my mother had two wigs that Grandma had brought back for her from an overseas trip.  One was blonde with a blue headband, and the Barbie is wearing a blue headband and has three wigs.  The Ken has dark hair and is so handsome he almost makes your heart skip a beat - as was my father.

And so it goes - each doll carefully selected for not only their looks, but also qualities, and even flaws. Now I have all of the dolls I require to start setting up the dioramas of my family, and our family friends, during the 1960s and 70s.  I have a few more outfits to collect for each of the characters in this play of my life before I can get stuck into it.  We'll be seeing them at...

–pool parties at our house

–barbeques

–cocktail parties (Pimms, Advocaat and Cherry Brandy, Creme de Menthe– remember those?)

–tennis... Mum played with 'the girls' twice a week, at the courts up the road, and Dad played with 'the boys' at the same courts on the weekends.  Occasionally, they played mixed doubles, while the children played outside on the dirt road at the back of the courts, and begged for change to get a bottle of soft drink out of the machine that ate our money

–and, even in the bedroom (but nothing too risqué)...

It was a time of freedom, fun, and a little bit of glamour - even in the sleepy town that was Brisbane in the sixties.