Biographical Non-Fiction posted September 11, 2013 Chapters:  ...36 37 -38- 39... 


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Stories of the people around and closest to us. Part 1.

A chapter in the book The Little Dog That Wouldn't Let Go

In laws & Outlaws More Mongrels

by Sankey




Background
God has answered our prayers, a new pastor and his wife have come. The old pastor has been "called" to a church in our southern State.

Chapter 38(Word

I've just been thinking, comparing my father to Moses, and the Children of Israel. They disobeyed God and wandered around in the wilderness. He disobeyed God in leaving his family in 1959, and after that, he wandered all over the place, living in Queensland, Forbes, Oberon, and then Grawin.
 
Prior to that - goodness knows where else. Maybe old Dick, my paternal Grandfather, was a bushranger too!
 
We visited my Aunty Lorna, (Dad's younger Sister), a few years ago. It was, yet again - a "learning" experience we are glad to have had.
 
During the visit, it occurred to me while we talked about how Dad, many years before, had asked my Mum to bring my brother and me up to Queensland to live. Whether with him or near him we don't know. I remember the photos of the University in Townsville for my elder brother and a school for me, he had sent with the letter.
 
But as I think about it more now - I believe Dad wrote that letter on the quiet without his lady friend's knowledge (Maude, at the time.) When Mum replied - and we know she did for sure - her letter "somehow disappeared" - so Dad never received it.
 
We learned from Aunty Lorna that day, Dad had told her what he had done and that Mum (he thought, and told my Aunty,) had not replied. I do wonder if God somehow intervened in these things.  As I have said someplace else, I believe I grew more in the things of God because Dad was not with us than I would have - had he still been here at home.
 
When I was 14, Dad came to visit. It was a traumatic time and a time of a lot of tears (on my part). Because I really thought then (or hoped in my heart of hearts,) Dad was coming home for good after 6 years away.
 
However, as above it was for the best. At that time, he and Mum discussed a trip I wanted to go on in the following year, to Launceston in our southern island state of Tasmania. It would be my first time so far away from home, on my own. Dad paid for that trip, for me.
 
I remember a couple of years later, going on another trip, on my own again, out to Forbes, where dad was running a hotel. That was the time, 3 weeks short of 18 years of age, I won a "Housie" Game, at the local Ambulance Station - with the help of Dad's partner's wife, Joyce. Joyce was a real sleuth at managing multiple rows of "Housie" Cards, as well as mine. 

 I also remember Dad's White cockatoo, named Bill, who was a really good talker. Bill could put one over you anytime and make out what a great friend he was but put your finger, as I did, in his cage and - OUCH! So much for the friendship.
 
Of course, I still remember, as well, the return home and being very emotional with Mum - a kind of "reality check" I guess.
 
Now, I want to move on to my Grandparents. They are an interesting story all on their own. I won't talk about Dad's father again as I never really knew him all that well.
 
Mum's dad was working on the trams and buses, for the NSW Government. He also assisted my father with the development of our land, prior to the construction of our house in Ryde. As a bit of a "tangent" - here's a little story about my Mum's folks' courtship and eventual marriage.
 
As I look back in my maternal grandmother's history, Nanna we called her, had been adamant she wanted to be married in her beloved Presbyterian Church. My future granddad wanted it to be in the Catholic Church, so they parted for a year until they could not stand being apart any longer, and he agreed to a "Pressie" Wedding.
 
After they were married and over time, Granddad would occasionally sneak off to Mass.
One day, some Nuns came to the door, asking:
"Are there any Catholics in the house?"  Mum and her brothers all piped up:
“Yes, Daddy's a Catholic!" I fear Granddad was in big trouble at the local Catholic Church that:
 1. He had not married there and:
 2. He did not have his wife and children in tow for the Mass.
 
Nanna would arrange meals all neat and so on and was a good cook! The only time I remember her failing in her cooking expertise was when she made some stewed Rhubarb, omitting the necessary stewed apple component. So we had very sweet Rhubarb JAM and Ice Cream or custard that night. I know I have had a sweet tooth all my life but NOT THAT SWEET!! Sigh!
 
Grandma, (Dad's Mum) and our Nanna were worlds apart, personality-wise. Nana appeared as prim and proper and had at times expressed that good old adage -

"Children should be seen and not heard".
 
In more recent times, we were made aware again, of that saying, on the "Anne of Green Gables" Mini-series as spoken by old Mrs Harris.
 
Funny thing is; my wife's Uncle and also her Grandmother had a passion for using that expression too.
 
One other thing I remember about Nana was being a great believer in "home cures." I remember when I fell off my bike, one day; Nana decided it should be treated with kerosene which she put on the gravel-rash wound. She then covered it with gauze and a bandage.
 
The result was next day, inflammation of the area of course. Another of Nanna's "medicines" was for my regular upper respiratory tract infections. The answer, in her opinion, was a Rum Olive Oil and Honey concoction. I can't remember how successful that was in curing my ailment.
 
Grandma, as I am now told, was the real "higher-up" person from an elite background. It seems she rebelled against that scene and put on a new "lower class" persona. She was not rough, or anything and I know I got on a lot better with Grandma than I did with Nana. I think Nanna worried a lot more.
 
I have fond memories of staying with Grandma when she lived in Orange in our Central West. I used to have a little bed in her bedroom and I remember the old lace-up corsets she wore. I also remember some of Grandma's sayings such as: 
"Fight on, Fight on! I hate peace."
Or:
"There you are; get outside of that" when she served the food.
 
I believe another remark attributed to her, in reference to the parentage of one or other of us was,
"you bore the bugger!" As I shared, I remember a lot of other stuff not fit to print here as well! Something else I recently learned, from Aunty Lorna (Dad's sister), was that opposite to Nanna, who was notably a "girl person"; Grandma was most decidedly a "boy" person. And that went all the way down through her 3 boys, including my Dad and through to the Grandsons, as well.
 
Aunty Lorna, and my other Aunty Gladys; were quite ticked off about their brothers' higher considerations. Particularly, when the family tin mine was sold and the boys got a far greater share of the resulting funds. Of course, my Dad and his brothers also, did more of the work in the Mine too; but oh well! Sadly as we continue this book, Aunty Lorna has recently passed away, in January 2017.
 
 
Most of what I remember of all this, apart from my actual experiences of them either came from Nanna or Grandma directly. or was passed on to me from someone down the line. Now....more "Outlaw" tales ahead. -
 




Recognized


The picture is my Dad with Ben Hall's grave...the Dead bushranger with the live bushranger (back in 1968)...he said it; not me! Dad's with old Ben Hall now...I hope not!
We visited Ben Hall's grave last year (2012 at the time of writing). It now has a fence around it. Still maintained beautifully but it must have been interfered with, hence the fence, now. Funny how we Australians as maybe other Nations do, too, worship our criminals. Here below is a Wikipedia Link about Ben Hall, not one of our worst Bush rangers according to the article.

Ben hall article


*SNIVES is a sarcastic term referring to "St Ives" a Northern well-to-do suburb of Sydney, our Capital, 30 miles East of us.~ *Mrs Bouquet and "~Keeping Up Appearances" refers to the same name show a BBC Production that I am told is not seen in Uncle Sam land, sadly.
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