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

[mmMekitty]

I was walking a lot then, in 1980's.

When I first moved out of home, into Taringa, I took the train into Roma Street, walked around for something like three hours, and ended up at Brunswick Street Train Station. I just walked, not caring much about where I was going, got 'lost' I suppose. My mindset, how it was, I didn't care. I could see better then, but still, it was a risky thing to do. At one point someone approached me and asked me if I wanted to go to a party - I think I was lucky I simply was not interested in meeting people; just wanted to be walking on my own. Nwo I wonder what sort of 'party' did he mean?

I have lived in various Brisbane suburbs, and would regularly walk to and from the city. Often I did to get out, when something had stirred me up to know I was not happy, angry even, and I could not deal with having emotions, so I would walk. That was my remedy for feelings. I shut them down by walking.

I also went on marches during the mid 80'a, noisy, but with a group, or I might tag along with a group whose message I liked. They didn't object to me marching along with them. While it was like a picnic, I was enjoying this stuff. I would become nervous if there were rumours of undercover cops or (haha) people from ASIO, who might be gathering information about who was marching. It was a laugh, but underneath I was nervous.

If I had been a little older, & if we had not come to Australia, who knows? I might have gone to Woodstock! What a thought...

[missep123]

This is a simple but happy memory of mine:

Coming home from high school, sitting on the couch under a cozy blanket and drinking chai tea while watching a random movie.

For some reason I look back at this memory and just remember feeling so calm, content and carefree.

[Croix]

Dear All~

For me one of the pleasures was arriving home from school in winter at a place we lived in the UK. There was snow all over which was wet slush on the road I walked in the dark from the bus stop, during which my shoes became soggy and my woolen socks icy and wet.

Then inside from the darkness into a well lit kitchen, the smell of dinner cooking, the sound of parents talking, cats scooting, me peeling off the socks and shoes and wiggling toes in front of the stove, felt wonderful.

Thanks for reminding me

Croix

[Doolhof]

A few random childhood memories:

Making sand castles on the beach

Looking for crabs amongst the rocks

Exploring the countryside

My first bike (second hand and with brakes and a bell!)

My little red wagon I would sit in and then rush down the footpath

Making little paper boats to sail down the gutters after rain

Sliding on cardboard down a grassy hill

Climbing trees

[Croix]

Dear Mrs D~

I remember 2 sorts of crabs (your word poem reminded me) , one sort with a rough shell you could eat, the other not, or so my Welsh grandfather Tide would say.

So I'd walk down to the pier and along til I came to the rusty bars set in the side and climb down to water's edge. It was hard on the hands and I'd often get little cuts, later to be dosed in iodine by my Granny Nain.

Then wiht a scrap of meat on a string I'd dangle it invitingly in the clear water, just outside the fronds of seaweed. In time I'd see a claw come out and grip.

Hall it in, get more, discard the inedible then home to have crab for tea.

Not a random boy's amusement, in those days groceries could be hard to come by and every little counted (including dandelion salad - yuck)

Croix

[Doolhof]

Hi Croix and all,

Your story reminded me of my fishing expeditions, we had no boys in our family, so I was the one to go fishing.

I'd wander down to the jetty maybe from age 10 and see what I could catch. I had a hand line. It took me a while to work out how to bait the hooks without sticking myself with the hook.

I would scale the fish at the jetty and scamper down the uneven, slippery steps leading into the ocean to rinse the fish off, watching the waves to see when it was safe to do so.

Way back then, net fishing was permissible. Men would drag out nets on the beach and catch tuna. The town's children would go down to the beach and ask if help was needed. We would be given a fish to take home for our efforts.

I personally don't like fishing now, I feel sorry for the fish. Then it was a necessity. It was nice to have fish with the mashed potato and peas!

[Croix]

Dear Mrs D~

It sounds as if we much alike, providing a little towards our families, though I have to confess I never has much luck catching fish - from a jetty or elsewhere, crabs, prawns and winkles were my game.

Croix

[Doolhof]

Hi Croix,

I used to do quite well catching tommy roughs off the jetty. Dad made a boat and would take us out garfishing at night. It was always on a near moonless night, using a tilly lamp to attract the fish, we would scoop them up in a net.

In a creek we were able to catch bream and some other types of fish.

I also used to collect periwinkles and roast them on the rocks using sticks I collected then hook the morsel out with the thorn off a box thorn bush.

Guess all of that activity is illegal now without the appropriate licences.

Foraging for food only happens in supermarkets these days and occasionally from other people's gardens.

[Croix]

Dear Mrs D~

"and occasionally from other people's gardens." You have my admiration, picking veggies in the dead of night wihtout benefit of light must be hard. Hopefully they will not follow the footsteps to your fence:)

Tilley lamps, I wonder if anyone remembers them, they were the greatest source of portable outdoor light. I used to have one on a float and would wade out knee deep wiht a net on a pole. The lamp uset to light up prawns' eyes like a constallation of red dots which I'd scoop up

[Doolhof]

Hi Croix,

Ha. Ha. The gathering of goodies from other people's gardens only happens when they are generously given to me!

Our current neighbours all have dogs, there would be no night pilfering happening in any of their gardens!

We had lots of power failures in our region, sometimes for days, so kerosene lamps and wood fires were the go.