Store Your Happy Memories Here:

[Croix]

Dear All~

What this place is for:
This thread is a tool, a resource, and also I guess a dash of entertainment.

I’ve found that when life is grim that sometimes thoughts of past happiness can create a chink of light in the grey overwhelming press of down. They can help occupy the mind with lighter reflections.

With that in view I invite people to set down a brief passage describing some happy event they look back to with fondness and peace.

They - and others too - can then return to it when they feel the need to glean a little warmth.

It is not a place for gloomy or dire tales, those can go elsewhere.

What to do:
Just set out, as simply as you like, your recollection of some past experience that means something good to you, something you enjoyed, something from safe times.

It can be, like my story below, anything – from an account of visiting grandparents to simply cooking and eating a melted-cheese sandwich in a favorite kitchen – you get to choose.

How to do it:
Write. Write enough so someone else can feel the mood, know what happened, find the goodness. (stop at 2,500 characters please!)

Grammar, syntax, spelling, punctuation are not compulsory, just write as you can – the only important thing is the content - not literary merit. Short or long - it does not matter.


I hope you enjoy, contribute and find a little distraction here when you need it.

Croix

[Gruffudd]

Tonight I went to the theatre. It wasn't an average play it was something truly special.

I'm always a little shy and find my voices telling me all sorts of discouraging things. I spotted a man who I liked the look of and found myself a seat not really near anyone.

Sometimes living with a mental health condition is isolating. The actors were a peer support group who all hear voices, the question they were responding to was, "what do you want to say?" And they had a story, many stories to tell.

Listening I found myself remembering my stories and the friendship offered by others in the hospitals.

Afterwards everyone gathered for coffee and talk. The man in the hoodie and one of the cast and I had a good conversation and 3 way flirt. I like the feeling that all this is just another part of my story. And even more that it helps me connect with some amazing people.

We all then headed out into the night and back to our homes.

[The_Abyss]

Thank you Croix for starting this thread (and encouraging me to post). I have enjoyed reading through people's memories, and many have brought a smile to my face or prompted my own memories. What struck me most was how many involved grandparents, early child memories, or animals, and, if I really think about it, most of mine do too!

And Gruffudd - I just wanted to say - well done!

Anyway, here is my offering:

The sun was shining as it peaked through the mounting storm clouds. As I drove along in the warm Autumn afternoon, I felt my mind wander to another set of storm clouds many years ago…..

It was bitterly cold, the thickened sleet hammering the outside of the motel we were hiding in. Miss 8 and I were huddled under the doona, the aircon blasting out hot air as we shivered beneath. Our 4-legged companion had also been snuck under the covers, having survived the earlier weather at the local show. A marathon of girlie movies was playing on the TV, and Miss 8 and I were tucking into a tub of rocky-road ice-cream, the leftovers destined for breakfast the next day! I have no idea if we had done any good at the earlier competition, but right at that moment it didn’t matter. Right at that moment, life was good!

[Croix]

My pleasure, I gain immensly here.

Well, grandparents, early childhod, animals (If you count crows). Yes you are quite right, for me childhhood with my grandparents was secure, fun, perfect.

The sleet reminds me:-

I loved the storms.
Before evening the crows in the oak trees beyond the stone wall would sound out, cawing and cawing again, keeping on and not settling down. Seagulls were absent.

During dinner in the bright electric light I’d rush my food, even rice pudding, one of my favourites and just right for cold weather. Always Nain made it in an enamel bowl, it had a thick creamy brown skin on top. Beautiful.

But I’d no time for it and shovelled it down. Nain glanced at Tide. They knew what was coming. Nain reached onto the dresser and got my little oil lamp, just like the big ones with copper body, wick and glass flue.

The glass was lifted off, the wick raised and I was allowed to strike a match and light it. The glass was replaced. Hastily pecking Nain and Tide goodnight the lamp was entrusted to my impatient hands.

I’d climb up the stairs to the middle room where I slept. Putting the lamp on the side table where I could reach it from in bed I undressed and shivering put on my thick flannel pyjamas and woolly bed socks (with bobbles on them just like Wee Willie Winkie).

I was always tempted to leave my clothes on, but knew Tide would know and make me change.

Pushing down between the icy sheets under a thick layer of blankets I’d reach out and turn down the wick. In the dark I could look behind me to the window. It was special - made from panes of glass stretching from floor to ceiling, wall to wall.

As the outside light faded I could glimpse the trees starting to thrash in the gusts. Dark moving shapes.

The wind got higher, now a gale. The rain starting, drumming against the glass. Whistling in the house and in trees, the sound of branches whipping their leaves – no crows now.

If I was lucky ‘d hear the South Stack fog-horn “Bwaa-Omff”.

I’d shiver with delight. There was nothing snugger, the bed now warm, the storm outside, just the glass in between.

Croix

[Quercus]

What a beautiful, hopeful thread. I hope it grows and grows!

A memory of our special place....

Middle of the week, noone around, laughing like idiots in the cold.

Standing on a granite outcrop washed smooth by a lifetime of water and trying to convince eachother to brave the freezing water.

Splashes and gasps, goosebumps on bare skin, embarrassed laughter.

Kisses to keep eachother warm.

We getter get out before a tourist comes to take scenic photos and gets more than they bargained for.

Rocks underfoot, grey sky, hand in hand, quiet words.

A secret smile shared as we pass a tourist with a fancy camera on the trail home.

[Music_Freak]

I love browsing this thread, it's all so random 🙂

Would anyone be interested in reading a more detailed post about my Halestorm memories? I've often wondered whether I should post it here.

It's a huge deal for me but others might find it boring...

[Croix]

Dear Narelle~

One of the things that surprises me in this thread is that happiness 'leaks out' from the words and is picked up by others even if those words seem ordinary to the writer.

So YES PLEASE. Your happiness you felt at the time will really help all readers here - plus you too in the future I hope. And don't stress over it or polish every sentence - just get it down, in short posts if you need, or a longer one.

Croix

[Gruffudd]

Hong Kong is a crowded bustling busy place full of energy and people doing things. It is beautiful with its stone steel and concrete juxtaposed with the sparkling water of the harbour and the verdant remnants of rainforest that grow in any crack in the pavement.

One spring day it was time for something different. So we found our way to the old wooden warf in Central to catch the star ferry. The timber creaked as the boat pulled aside its engines swelling the waters lapping on the muscles growing on the pier. I could smell the ocean as I joined the small crowd on the gangway.

We found a place on the wooden benches at the back of the boat near the union flag. There were some private school boys, a seagull, and some nuns but otherwise we had the ferry to ourselves.

We got off at the island and started along the path that wound along the cliffs and steep hillsides. Every now and then there was a little cove with golden sand and palm trees. Amongst the ferns on the hills were the gravestones of the Chinese fishermen looking out to sea connecting them to their place and ancestors. There was a gentle breeze and birdsong.

After an hour or so we made it to the village on the far side of the island. At the temple we lit incense respecting the large golden Buddha. Then we made our way down to the waterfront where there was a row of restaurants opening on to the jetty where the fishing boats come and go and the view of lobster pots in the small bay. There we settled for a meal of lobster and greens so soft and flavoured that we have never known since.

Night began to fall as the last ferry arrived at the village, we boardered and sat with the union flag flapping as we made our way back to the city lights. The stars blanketing the sky above us and a pod of dolphins leaping up from the water in our wake.

[Just Sara]

Wow Rob! I'm 'there' with each syllable. Thanks for a great read...

You too Quirky! I went skinny dipping with 10 other girls while wagging school. Your story reminded me of that time. Thanks for the memory...

When I was around 10, my Nan took me to town to spend quiet time together. We'd plodded the shops and streets window shopping, spending little money just to enjoy life away from the chaos at home.

In those days, Coles Variety Store had a sweets section where she brought me a very tasty raspberry cordial poured straight from a large swirling glass refrigerated container; she had ginger beer. Flavours came in all the colours of the rainbow.

On we went looking over waist high, wooden, single sectioned shelves at underwear and clothing. As time passed, she motioned me to go and took my hand. As we walked down the main street, she began to waddle oddly and walked a bit faster.

Suddenly, I heard some noises coming from her; she was letting go of some 'bum bubbles'. At first I was embarrassed, but then I started to giggle, and giggle, and giggle. Then she giggled, and giggled while still trying to physically 'cork' the dreaded sulfur menace, as she called it.

We passed by a hotel with men drinking beer outside, and one very loud bubble got loose! The men laughed and taunted us. My giggling finally got the better of me and I wet my pants as we crossed the road to catch a cab; Nan was still bubbling away...ginger beer I suspect!

She died 5 yrs later, and I've never once complained about my wet pants. I hold that memory close to my heart as one of the most enjoyable times I had with her.

Sara x

[The_Abyss]

The radio was playing 90 tunes on the way home. "Let your mind roll back to the 90's! Disco, roller skating, making out.....". My mind drifted back.

I was in year 7 (and a little earlier than the 90s!) and we were allowed to do roller skating for a sport at the local rink. I loved the adrenaline of going fast, the games, the races. It was something I could do alone in my own world, but still be part of a group. The fast beats would seeing me racing faster and faster, while the love songs would have me swirling and dancing. The competitive side of me would be out to win, while the loner in me enjoyed the freedom of going round and round, footloose and carefree. Each song would conjour up a new emotion, a sad song would have me reflecting, a fast song have me racing my demons - it was my time away from reality. Funny how a song, a smell, a taste, a sound, can instantly transfer you back!

[Guest_9809]

Thats lovely The Abyss, thanks so much for sharing.

Ha ha, and you too Sara! Very funny.

I enjoy reading everyone's stories here (hi Gruffudd and Croix) so thankyou to all of you.