The Sausage Tree (9 page)

10

Every Sunday morning we went to Sunday school. Dad didn't believe in anyone sleeping late so we were always up at the usual time. By eight o'clock we would be sitting down having breakfast, which on Sundays was a boiled or fried egg and toast made in front of the fire in the stove. Weekdays we had Weet-Bix or porridge. After breakfast we dressed in our very best dress, hats, shoes and socks that were kept only for Sunday School and town. There was always the same instructions: “Don't talk to the larrikins on the corner”. The larrikins were a group of young local boys who sat on the verandah or leaned against the verandah posts of the shop every Sunday morning. They were quite harmless but we had to pretend that they weren't there.

Our Sunday school days are vividly remembered as are the teachers who were also church elders. One teacher, Mrs Power, also played the church organ. On Sundays the elderly lady always wore a black hat with a very long hat-pin
stuck through it and a long black dress which swept to the ground. She dressed in the same manner, except for the hat, during the week when she worked in the general store which was owned by her family. Barbara and Rosalie would often go into the shop just to stare at Mrs Power's head. One day when they could no longer contain their curiosity they went home and asked Mum how Mrs Power covered up the hole in her head; they couldn't see one even though she didn't have much hair. Mum was quite stumped. “What hole in her head?” she asked. “The one she sticks the pin through that keeps her hat on” was the reply. The twins were quite serious, but Mum chuckled about it for days afterwards.

The highlight of the Sunday school year was the anniversary which was held on the third Sunday of November every year and for this we all got new clothes. Mum must have saved up all year to be able to afford new outfits for us all, not just outer clothes but brand new underwear as well. As anniversary day came near we would be excited at the prospect of a visit to town to choose the material for our new dresses and to get new shoes and a hat.

Going to town was a real treat as we also went to Granma's for dinner when we went on the shopping excursions. As there was no way we could let her know we were coming, Mum said it wasn't fair to expect Granma to feed so many extra people, so she always bought pies in town to take with us. This was another special treat for us as it was the only time we were lucky enough to have what we considered a luxury. Shopping day was always just one day in the August holidays and we kept our fingers crossed, hoping that Mum was well enough to cope with the long day in town.

The adventure began when we caught the bus at eight
o'clock in the morning and didn't finish until we arrived home at six o'clock that evening. It was a very long and tiring day as we would have to be out of bed by six o'clock so that we would have plenty of time to do our chores.

Town shopping days were eagerly looked forward to even though the ride to Launceston and back again was a horrible disaster for Valda and the twins. Travel sickness was a curse that had to be endured and coped with, with the cooperation of the bus driver. This was no modem passenger bus, it was always old; we thought it was made old and had never been new. There were long wooden seats right across the width of the bus in two or three rows where the passengers perched, dressed in their Sunday best, complete with hat and gloves for the trip to town. The passengers were usually women and to get to a seat one had to scramble over their feet.

Behind the seats was a big empty space that was used to transport all manner of freight to and from town. It was the same bus that took our daffodils to the hospital. The freight would be anything from fencing wire and grain seed to motor oil or spare parts for machinery. The driver would leave most of it at the corner for a farmer to pick up. Nothing was ever stolen and everyone seemed to know who owned what. There were hardly any motor cars then and it would have been impossible to carry it away. The bus also carried the flour for the bakery and groceries for the shop. The whole framed body of the bus was covered by a tarpaulin that let all the petrol fumes and dust off the road seep inside where everyone sat, and helped contribute to our travel sickness.

The bus used to make a detour up and down our road and this saved us a walk to the comer and ensured that Mum had a seat right in the front next to the driver. Peter usually stood in front of Mum and was fascinated by the techniques of driving. At an early age he could identify the
make and model of oncoming cars just by looking at them. The final point of departure from the town was the corner, but anyone could flag the bus down anywhere along the road. The driver always made sure that Valda and the twins sat near the door ready for a quick exit. That old bus groaned and shook along the road shaking everyone about and this, together with the petrol fumes, soon had us feeling sick. The winding road added to the dreaded sickness. Only ten minutes out of Lilydale the driver who was very sympathetic and knew our limitations, would call out, “Hang on until we reach the top of the hill, I can't stop here”. A quick exit was needed at least four times before the outskirts of Launceston was reached where the hills and the bends in the road finished.

The year 1948 saw the end of the old buses and a new passenger bus was bought by the other bus company. This bus deserved its nickname “the parlour coach” because of the new luxurious mode of travel.

Once we reached Launceston the excitement of choosing our dress material soon caught up with us again. Mum would choose the type of material in her price range, but we had the joy of choosing the pattern and the colour which made us feel very proud and important. Choosing the style of the dresses was done at home where Mum had a big pile of old
Ladies Home Journal
magazines that had many pictures of ladies' and children's dresses. When we had each made our choice Mum would cut a pattern out of newspaper and then the big moment came, our dress would be cut out and the sewing began.

Mum's machine had a handle on the side and the eldest at home had to turn it at a nice steady even speed as Mum needed both hands free to guide the material to sew a straight seam. Around 1943 she bought a treadle model that made the job both quicker and easier. Because there were five dresses and an outfit for Peter to be made, the
sewing had to start as soon as possible. Nearly always, Joan and Valda, stitched the gathered lace on by hand, sometimes finishing the job the night before the anniversary.

The anniversary was a gala day and was very special, the church always packed to overflowing with extra chairs in the aisle and porch. For weeks Mrs Bardenhagen, who was a music teacher, coached us in singing special anniversary hymns. All the children, about thirty, formed a choir and much practising for perfection took place. The night before the great day we girls would have our hair washed and rolled into strips of rag we called wigs. They were uncomfortable but the end result of curly hair was worth every hour of torture during the night. On the great day we all sat in the choir stalls, the little children in front the big ones at the back and no-one could have been more proud of their new clothes than we were. There were also some adults in the choir and this gave us much needed confidence. We were very proud when we were chosen to sing solo and we would sing our little hearts out. Through singing at Sunday school and at concerts it was discovered that both Joan and Wilma had excellent singing voices.

There was morning church from 11.00 to 12.30 when we would race home, change our clothes, have dinner, wash up and then change again to be ready and back at the church for the main part of the day at 3.00. The service lasted just over an hour and most of the time was taken up with the prize-giving, all of which were books. Everyone received a prize and some lucky ones got extra books for either good work, good behaviour or regular attendance. Then it was home again and after tea those who were over ten got to go to the evening service at 7.00 to sing again. The church would be full for each service, because on anniversary days the other churches would be closed, as on the day everyone went to the church that was celebrating its anniversary. We were certainly on show to all the local
people and some of them only went to church when an anniversary was held. By bedtime we were exhausted, but very satisfied with our day and, most important to fall, happy with our books.

Joan and Barbara still have all their Sunday school book prizes. Barbara also has a very special prize of a Bible for being the “most outstanding girl in the Sunday school”.

After the excitement of the anniversary came the preparations for the Sunday school picnic that was held at the beach on the second Saturday in December. We tried so hard to be good at home because there was always the threat of not going on the picnic if we misbehaved. Emotional blackmail was a common occurrence and Mum used it daily for weeks before a special event. As the picnic gave us the only opportunity we had in our young lives to go to the beach, we tried extra hard not to annoy our parents.

It didn't matter that the smelly old bus took two hours to get there and two hours back again. Not even the knowledge that we would be horribly sick both ways could dampen our spirits. While we were being sick out the side of the bus, everyone else was singing and having a great time. Oh yes, the bus trip was fun! How the other children and adults must have dreaded seeing us waiting at the corner for the bus. We also knew that no matter how well we were covered up we would all be sun burnt and sore as well as sick.

Because she was never really well Mum could not go with us, but she always gave us plenty of sandwiches and cake to add to the food that everyone else brought. There was a never ending supply of delicious raspberry water cordial which was a real luxury for us—something we had only on picnic days. In some mysterious way raspberry cordial has never tasted the same anywhere else. We had no bathers
and the girls went into the water wearing an old dress and panties, while the boys had a spare shirt and shorts each. Because we only went near a lot of water once a year, we never learned to swim.

On the morning of the picnic we would be quite dismayed if the sky was overcast, as on some occasions the outing had been cancelled because of inclement weather. We would all be looking towards the heavens because Mum would say “If there was enough blue sky to make a sailor's outfit, the day would be fine”.

Races were held on the beach on picnic days and the twins always won all the events they were in. When they were about twelve years old they were noticed by a man and his wife who were athletes. They asked all about the twins and subsequently visited Dad and Mum to ask if they could train them to run and maybe eventually run in the Olympics. They were very disappointed when Dad and Mum said a very definite “NO”. The twins often wonder how different their lives may have been had our parents said “YES”.

There was another church activity that created excitement for all the children and involved everyone in town. This was the annual fair and concert held on the second Saturday in March. It was the fund-raising day that provided the extra money needed to fund the Sunday school prizes and the outing to the beach.