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

[Banjoman]

Hi Later,

I was very young, 5 years old, my father took my brother and I on a train to a seaside small town. We walked into a long counter fishmonger shop on the big harbour jetty. The shop had these amazing tanks with eels and crabs near the entrance. It would keep my brother and I occupied while my father would go to the end of the store to order pink snapper fish and chips. I didn't stray from the fish tanks because I noticed a big, realistic looking fibber glass sharks head protruding out of the wall behind and above the main counter. I knew it wasn't real but I was scared it may come to life at any moment and some how eat us all. After dad got hot the paper parcel we walked to a grassy park nearby. We sat down and ate together as was we watched seagulls slowly encroaching.

Life was a lot simpler then. Makes me smile to think about it.

[Guest_128]

That is a great memory,I love it more cause I love fishing!

ells I hate,when scuba diving It was so peaceful until I saw one of those.

Thanks for posting, I am a keen fisher,woman,

I would love to take you fishing soon.

Later

[Quercus]

Haha Later good on you. I'm the opposite I like a nice clear beach with few waves (or better yet a swimming pool... Am not a good swimmer).

Reminds me of a good memory though...

Standing on a massive boat peering into crystal clear water. Flat and still. Not a ripple. Like glass all the way down. Huge mounds of coral dotted around. Small fish. White sand. Clean and clear. The most beautiful island I've ever seen. Isolated. Not a soul but us.

We jump overboard and swim to shore. Little stingrays scatter as we step onto the white sand. Burning hot. We race eachother to the shack. Old timber. A private shack on a secluded island paradise. The adults set up on lounges in the shaded verandah of the shack. Cheese and meats and beers unloaded. My sister and I look at them like they're mad. You know you're fortunate when you come to paradise often enough to not explore. I feel like we've won the lottery being invited along.

We take kayaks out on the water. Scorching sun. Smell of salt and fresh air. Out so deep and the water is glass. We lie on our tummies and watch the fish. Race eachother along the bay. I have never felt so safe. Water is calm and still. I trail my feet in the water to cool down. Come for a swim?

Laughter. She swims like a fish. I am less sure. It's just like a pool. It's ok. The water is perfect. I float along and look at the clear blue sky. Ears submerged there is no sound. Blue sky. Cool water. Hot hot sun. Total peace.

We exchange glances as we get into the car. An experience of a lifetime. Worth the red skin. Even the tops of my toes are burnt. I treasure the feeling of salt and tight hot skin. My little glimpse of heaven.

[Doolhof]

I agree with Banjoman, this thread is filled with lovely memories.

I also worked in aged care, I hadn't been there very long at all, when it was suggested I take 6 residents suffering from dementia to a flower show. Alone! I helped the residents to the van and off we went. That part went well.

I managed to get the ladies into the flower show okay, once there they all separated. One dear lady was picking the flowers up out of the vases and jars to smell them, another looked like she was trying to gather up a bunch of beautiful flowers to take home with her.

Oh dear! With help from some members of the public I was able to assist the ladies back into the van and return them home again safe and sound. They all had smiles on their faces, that was the main thing!

[monkey_magic]

Adrenaline charged, scared with butterflies I held on to his waist as he weaved in and out of traffic.

With confidence I let go and held onto the back bar with both hands leaning back.

The wind in my hair, flying through my body, causing tears down my face.

It was pure freedom, love and joy.

My butt hurt a little but it was worth it, buzzing around town on one of many motorbike rides.

[kanga_brumby]

I can remember a day golfing with my farther. We arrived at the local public golf course went in to the pro shop paid for our round. Then went off to the first tee. No body in sight getting our clubs and balls out to play some one else arrived the staff member asked if the new person could join us. We invited him to join us. So I teed up my ball faced off, and let fly. The swing felt good, there was a sweet crack as the club face hit the ball. The ball took off like a rocket on this the first hole par 4. Well the ball keep on going as never before, for me. Landing just short of the green. Then keept on rolling. Taking my club throwing it back into my bag. "Right that's it I taking my bat and ball and going home now!"

The new comer was realy puzzled with a golf shot like tat your going home?

Well it's like this when I play golf I get one good shot per game if I am lucky. That was the shot I retired on a hole in one on a par 4 DAM they call that a abaltrous every one gets to at least see a birdy, some see eagles, even fewer see abaltrous. NO one sees the next one A dodo 4 under for that hole

Kanga

[MarkJT]

Reading your post Kanga about golf reminded me of a good story.

Playing golf up bush and we had carts this day. Between shots were chasing the kangaroos around and watching them hop away.

Thought all was good and then saw a bunch of roos sitting there so we make our way over and most, i say most, take off. The massive big red roo decided enough was enough and stood right up and flexed.

Hmmmmm....guess that is our cue to take off the other way.

Couldn't believe the size of him. Massive.

Lesson learnt....don't mess with the roos but geez was a run day!!!

**No kangeroos were hurt in this story**

Mark.

[Guest_1055]

Hi everyone, just thought I would read some more of other peoples happy memories . I am glad I did, because I can imagine riding on a motorbike with my hair flying wild and free. I saw a few oldish ladies that looked bewildered yet happy as they touch flower after flower. I heard a crack of a golf club hitting a ball.I see a huge amount of fish just swimming around as well as some battered cooked fish and chips and an island with cystral clear water.

Then I read the last post written by Mark and lost it. All I could see was this absolutely huge red kangaroo standing his ground and getting ready to fight anyone that came near.

Still smiling and Thankyou.

Shell xx

[The_Abyss]

Shelley - I too experienced all of those sights and sounds reading the posts, and your summary of them all just made them all the more vivid. Thank you!

I was at my psychologist yesterday, and he took me back to a place of safety, in fact the only place I have ever felt truly safe in my entire life. Although it stirred up some difficult memories, it also reminded me of some special times.

My grandfather lived in a quiet culdesac. At the end of the street was a path that weaved its way from the main road down to the lower reaches of the culdersac below. To reach it by car, it was a complicated series of turns, a rabbit warren of streets, but the path was the most direct route by foot. It had dozens of steps, a joy to run down, but a real test to hike back up!

When we went to visit my grandfather, we would be let out of the car at the top of the path and then we would race each other and the car to see who could get to the house first. Breathless, our feet bare and our breaths coming in rasps, we burst through the side gate and raced to the back door to be the first one to give my grandfather a hug! In my imagination I always won...not sure that memory is entirely true!

Inevitably he was sitting at the dining room table, in his chair, the one closest to the kitchen. Opposite him on the sideboard were a collection of family photos, a lifetime documented in the still hues of browns and greys, a story behind every face. I loved to gaze at the photos and relive all of his memories.

He would welcome us with open arms, a cooked meal and a sponge cake that he had bought especially for our visit. What would it be this time? Jam and cream? I still love sponge cakes, but they are never as good as my memory!

What is for dinner? Roast pork? My favourite! May I peel the apples? The milky softness, the sweetness and spice. A perfect accompaniment to the crunchy crackling and the juicy meat. Quick, steal the edge of the crackling! Yum!

The little device to push the beans through. It took off the string and julienned them at the same time. Salt in the water, butter over the cooked beans. And roasted potato, pumpkin, carrot, The little onions? A perfect crunch on the potatoes! It's from the dripping, reused from the leftover fat and juices from roasts gone by.

Time to do the gravy. The excess fat is poured from the pan, the juices left behind. Stir in the flour, mixing it over the heat until brown. Add the boiling water, stir until it's thickened.

Dinner is served.

[Guest_1055]

That is such a sweet beautiful memory. Loved it. It has bought up a couple of memories of mine. Mainly smelling the scent and knowing we were going to have a roast dinner that night.

It was always roast lamb we ate. The pumpkin was always my favourite. Yummy. Then the predicable creamy rice pudding was served. It tasted so sweet, soft and creamy. One always knew it would come after we ate all the vegetables. We needed to eat all the vegetables otherwise we could not have any.

The other memory that was awakened and is food related as well, was always seeing either morning or afternoon tea on my nan and grandads kitchen table. When we visited it was always served. I remember watching my grandad spoon in several spoonfuls of sugar with a funny shaped spoon into his tea cup. Then stir it for what seemed like ages. Then placing the spoon down with a crisp clunky sound on the saucer. Then I would look at the all the biscuits sitting on different plates in the middle of the table. The square ones that were pink with hundreds and thousands on them caught my eye. As well as the chocolate and vanilla wafer ones with a creamy bit in the middle. Those ones were crunchy and felt sort of light. A have a vague memory of a sponge cake but I think it was only there when someone had a birthday. I don't think I ate the middle part of it because I didn't like the jam bit.

Anyway thanks for bringing up a happy memory of mine TA. And sorry if that is not your name, perhaps I have it mixed up with someone else's.

Shell xx