Growing Up Large...

Hi Readers,

Been a bit longer in between posts, a bit going on. Sorry!!

Today I'm going to share some stories about something that is closest to me above everything else.

Family.

I am truly blessed to have grown up in a large family, which was quite common back in my childhood days. Just about everyone in our small town had a large family, and we thought nothing of it. This was normal !!

When I tell my kids at school how large my family was they just go wide eyed and open mouthed.

And we weren't the largest family either, there were many others larger than ours.

For those of you who are a similar age to me, you might relate to stories such as these. Some of you might even know these stories if you grew up with me, or any of my siblings.

So, sit back and read on, and please remember that some things that occur in these stories might be alarming now, but back in the day that's just how it was. I'm not apologising, I'm just telling it like it was. Even I look back now and shake my head, and no way would I recommend our boys to do the same things with their kids.

We survived, we grew up ( well, most of my siblings did !!) and have lovely families of our own, so perhaps it didn't do too much damage !!

My Family

Let me tell you a bit about my family, without making it sound like a slide show night!

In chronological order (sorry, no ages as I just don't know them all!!)

Maurice - If you said this name not many would know who you were talking about. He was universally known just as "Moose"

Kate

Anne

Anthony (Tony)

Me

Peter

Damian

Geraldine (Gez)

We live in various parts of Victoria, Queensland and the Northern Territory, but although distance has divided us, we have always remained close.

There are loads of stories to share. Embarrassing. Sad. Joyful. Ridiculous. Weird etc.

Being a positive person, I'll just focus on some of the more memorable and somewhat funny.

So, here goes...

While the Cat's away...

We have all moved away from home soon after finishing boarding school, but we always came back to mum and dad's house during holidays and breaks from Teacher's College. (It wasn't a Uni back then)

Moose was the only one who stayed in the hometown as he worked there at a quarry.

Think of Mr George Slate from 'The Flintstones', and that's Moose !!

Moose was gruff, hard working, generous and always busy. Apart from work, he loved outdoors, fishing, camping and shooting.

At Mum and Dad's house there was a bungalow out the back where Moose lived.

He'd always leave for work at ungodly hours early in the morning, and when he got home late in the afternoon he was like another favourite cartoon character of mine who was just loud, noisy and cantankerous at times.

This is what he came across as when he came home after a hard day at work....

When the reality was this, as he was a big softy at heart.

Anyway, back to the story.

One time when Peter and Damian and I were all home together, we shared a room which was just called "The Boy's Room", as the boys all slept there when they came home.

Moose had been having some trouble lately with a feral cat that kept sniffing around his bungalow at night and keeping him awake. Not what he needed when he started work so early !

He told us he was going to catch it, and then it was our job to 'dispatch it'. 

I'll point out now that although what follows may seem a bit harsh, in a small country town there was no way a feral cat was going to be rehoused or tamed, it just had to go.

As I said earlier, this is how it was back then.

After a few nights of not catching the cat, Moose finally had success when he found it in the trap he had set ( a box/cage sort of thing)

Before he set off to work that morning he came stomping down the hallway to tell us the cat was in a sack and that there was rifle in his bungalow and that we were to take the cat out the bush a few km's away and humanely shoot it.

"Yep, no worries Moose, we'll do it when we get up", and back to sleep we went.

A few hours later we loaded up the cat and the rifle and headed out the road to dispatch the cat.

As we had been out on the tear the night before, we were all a bit shabby and perhaps a bit hungover, so decided to take some shortcuts. Rather than go all the way out to the dense bush away from the town, we stopped at a paddock just a short distance away.

Mistake number 1 !!

We got the sack out and the rifle, and debate ensued about how we would do it.

Do we just shoot the sack a few times? Tie the cat to something so that we could ensure it got dispatched quickly? Who would actually do the deed? 

Too many questions for three tired boys !!!

In the end we decided to just open the sack and as soon as the cat popped out we would shoot it. Simple. At least it would be quick.

Mistake Number 2 !!

I forget who had what role, but collectively, we stuffed it up !!!

As soon as the bag was opened the cat shot out like greased lightning and was off across the paddock.

Whoever had the rifle was then firing shot after shot at it and little clouds of dust exploded behind it, but nowhere near it.

The cat was gone and we had failed to do what Moose had demanded.

Of course, when Moose got home later that day the first thing he asked was whether or not the cat was gone.

"Yep. No worries. Did everything you asked. Job done"

Fast forward a few hours and VERY EARLY the next day there was an even louder stomping down the hallway.

Our bedroom door flew open and a very angry Moose was standing over Damian, holding a sack with a cat in it, and a shotgun this time.

He threw the sack (containing the said cat) very heavily onto Damian who was trying hard to look like he was asleep, then the shotgun and cartridges, and stormed out growling 

"AND DO IT PROPERLY THIS TIME!!!"

I remember looking across through the dim light at Damian who was rubbing his eyes in a confused state after what had just happened, and staring at the gun and sack of cat laying on top of him.

All was quiet, and then I heard giggling coming from Peter in the bed in the opposite corner.

Obviously he and I looked the 'most asleep' which is why poor Damian copped the full wrath of Moose.

Rest assured, the job was done properly the next time, and it was the first thing that Moose checked when he got home that night!!!

The Exuberator

My sister Anne was what we might call a 'late bloomer' when it came to getting her driver's licence and a car. She just didn't see the need or feel the pressure to do either, so she was into her 20's when she finally committed.

At the time I was working in a Bank in Melbourne and was home for a few days during my holidays.

Moose and I decided to take Anne car shopping, so it was off to Bendigo for a day to check out the car yards.

It was great day out together and in the end Anne settled on a nice first car, a Toyota Corolla.

The car she bought was like this.

Anne was still a week or so away from getting her licence, so it fell upon me to drive the car back home for her, with Anne being a very proud and excited passenger.

On the way home I was happily pointing out various features of her car, as I was secretly jealous because it was much better than my car !

The radio sounded great, it had good heating and cooling, lots of room and buttons and switches for all manner of things.

There was one switch in particular that stood out, an orange plastic switch that lit up when pressed. Anne asked me what this switch was, and quick as a flash I said ( in a matter of fact tone ) "Oh, that's your Exuberator switch"

"What does it do?" she inquisitively asked.

"Well, it's like an extra power switch. It gives your motor a boost for extra acceleration" i replied straight faced.

I then proceeded to demonstrate.

I asked her to press the switch, and as it lit up I gently pressed harder on the accelerator.

When she pressed it again to turn it off, I eased back.

Back and forth this went all the way home, she thought her car was great, but having an "Exuberator" was just the icing on the cake!!!

We eventually got home and all the family were home a day later for the weekend.

Everyone wanted to see her new car and hear all about it, something which Anne was only too happy to share.

And she saved the best for last.

Smiling at me, she knew she was about to share what made her new car even more special.

"And did you know everyone, that it has a special power switch called the Exuberator, just here, and it gives you an extra power surge whenever you need it"

A few heads poked into the car and all instantly knew what the switch was.

It was for the rear demister !!!

Once this was pointed out to Anne I had some serious explaining to do, but as usual, she just took it in her stride. 

Anne had that car for years, and over time even she shared the Exuberator story, but I don't think she ever trusted me again when I explained the features of various cars we had.

Mum's First Aid

With 8 kids tearing around the place, mum and dad didn't have a lot of time to pamper us as they were busy running the only pub in the town.

With 8 kids, we were pretty accustomed to looking after each other and creating our own fun, just like all the other kids in the town.

Hanging around inside wasn't the norm, everyone was outside just 'doing stuff'.

How different it is now.

Because we did things that are now frowned upon or considered a bit too dangerous, it was inevitable that injuries occurred.

Whenever one of us was hurt it was quick and tough love from Mum.

Unless blood was spurting or bones were protruding, you were okay !!

I remember one time when Kate fell off a swing I think it was and hurt her arm.

Of course, she went to Mum in pain, there was nothing protruding, no marks, no bleeding, so a bit of a rub and a kiss on the forehead would fix everything.

Over the next few days, Kate was still in pain and kept telling Mum, who dutifully kissed and rubbed, and said it will get better soon.

However, Mum also began to look a little concerned when Kate's arm started to change colour a few days later, so she relented and took her to the hospital.

Imagine our surprise when a few hours later Kate comes back to the car with her arm in a full plaster and in a sling.

She'd badly broken it !!

Heaven knows the pain she was in for those few days, and it has always been something that summed up Mum's attitude..."You'll get better" !!

Wagging School

This story is ironic as 6 of us became school teachers !!!

Like all kids, we tried to pull a sickie from time to time and get a day off school.

Mum had a standard approach to all things pertaining to sickness and injury.

Gargle salt water.

If any of us complained of a stomach ache ( always a good one as there was no physical evidence needed) Mum would just say "Gargle this salt water"

The same for a sore throat. Same for diarrhoea. Same for a headache.

Even a sore leg. You name the condition, she'd always do the "Gargle some salt water"

We are all still to understand the benefits of her treatment, but if you were prepared to gargle ( and she would really make sure you gargled and sometimes swallow as well) then she figured you deserved a day off just for passing the gargle test. 

She must have loved watching us go through this !!

However, once you had either convinced her or faked it well enough, she would always make some of the best chicken soup one could ever taste, as we all know that chicken soup fixes everything !

Going the distance with the salt water was always worth it knowing that the chicken soup was soon o follow. Maybe it was her way of saying sorry .

Car Safety

Maybe this story has little to do with car safety, and is more about the lack of car safety.

Even I would be alarmed and shocked if I saw this today, but once again, as I've said earlier, this was the norm back in the 70's.

As we all seem to drive around in SUV's these days, myself included, back when I was a kid the ten of us all piled into the Holden HQ Station wagon. Great cars then, and worth a packet now to collectors.

The seats would fold down, we'd have blankets and pillows and all of us would fit in for long trips all over the place.

The trusty Holden HQ

This car would be worth a packet now.

Often if we were going somewhere there would be a race to get the middle spot in the front seat between Mum and Dad, as it meant not being squashed in the back with the others.

We didn't "Shotgun" the front seat back then, you would "Bags it". Don't ask me why, that's just what I grew up with.

As you can imagine, seat belts were often optional extras, which is also why the road toll was so high.

I also remember when Gez was born and she would be transported in a bassinet.

These days we have intricate car seats for babies and toddlers. Even I know much it has changed since our boys were young as we recently bought a car seat to transport our Grandson in, and needed to get it expertly fitted !!

Back to Gez.

Mum and Dad would always take us on Sunday drives, and after we all piled in, Gez was last to be handed in as she was in her bassinet. This would then be placed across the laps of the 3-4 kids in the back seat.

We were either lucky, or Mum and Dad were just safe drivers, as Gez survived through this and is now a school Principal.

To transport 8 kids nowadays one would need to purchase a virtual mini bus in order to carry all the kids, without even considering prams and strollers !!

Because Mum and Dad owned a pub, often they would have to collect supplies, or take loads of rubbish out to the tip a few km's away.

The trailer would be hooked up, and often we were given the choice to ride in the car or in the trailer. 

Can you imagine that now !!!

Coming back from the tip was always the best as it was a bumpy, dusty road.

We would be bouncing away in the trailer, and usually mum or dad would be unable to see us due to the dust being thrown up by the car. How they never lost one of us on the way home on one of these trips is beyond me, but it's just what every other family did as well.

Well Readers,

I hope this has jolted similar memories for you that you can laugh about now and be amazed that you survived your own childhoods. I'm still shocked looking back now, but at the time it was just the norm, just as all the things we are doing now are what is generally accepted.

I'm sure that our Grandson Henry will just laugh when his parents regale him in his later years with how he was brought up, transported etc. I'd love to be a fly on the wall to see what is accepted in the future.

Growing Up Large has been a post about my family which has a lot of things happening at the moment that just keep bringing us closer together.

I hope yours remains close too.

Until my next post,

Cheers 😁