"I REMEMBER" by H.M. Lindsay (1886-1978) (Contributed by Joan Tanner)

We all enjoy remembrances, but, as the years add up, I think the appreciation becomes more intense.  My mind goes back to the birthdays of my early childhood.  More than 80 years ago, my parents were pioneers in the Gippsland bush, on a selection of about 300 acres, about 2 and a half miles from a fenced road.   Money was scarce, but they did what they could for my three older brothers and myself, the youngest and the only girl. Birthdays were modest celebrations, without presents as a rule, but how well I remember being given a biscuit which had hard pink icing and a white flower on it. (It was from a'"Guest's" biscuit tin.) In those days, biscuits were sold from large tin, which had a "window" in the centre front. In this was the colorful decoration to attract the customers' attention. This was my birthday present. I Was five years old, and I carried it about with a pride and delight that I cannot remember any other gift giving me since.

On baking days,  Mother, sometimes, as a special treat, turned part of the bread dough into currant buns by the addition of sugar and dried fruits. All baking was done out of doors in a camp oven, and beautiful bread it baked, too. Father gathered Box wood for this, which made especially hot coals. The oven was embedded in the hot coals and ash and glowing coals were piled over it's iron lid. What a wonderful aroma a freshly baked batch of bread had, and what a treat it was to be allowed a piece of the crusty twist from the top of the "French" loaf! . Later, we advanced to a colonial oven, built into the kitchen fireplace - it had a fire both above and below. Later still, we had a good range, with an oven on either side of a central firebox. All this time, neighbors had a brick oven and were regarded as "well-to-do" folk.

At 5 years of age, I walked 3 miles to school with my brothers. We thought nothing of it and were as lively when we got home at about 4.30 p.m. as we had been in the morning. Our walk took us through a gully full of trees, scrub, maiden-hair fern and soft green mosses. In Spring and Summer there was the added interest of fascinating birds' nests - one in particular that I remember was in a low scrub bush beside the path. It was cup-shaped, tapering off to a long tail or stem, about 6 or 7 inches long, and with a soft downy lining. I do not remember the birds being at all alarmed as we walked by.

We had been warned that we must never leave the path.. Even if we thought that we heard a child crying in the bush, we must not go to search for it - the sounds would be made by koalas having some 'domestic' 'differences in the gum   trees. We did hear them at times, and they sounded very like a child crying. . One day, our path over the hill was blocked by 2 snakes coiled together in the hot sun.   We  did a wide detour that day. That was a sandy hill and a delight in Spring and early Summer,  with its wealth of wild flowers. The Harbinger of Spring came   first, with its small star-like flowers, white with dark purple or black "eyes",  then Eggs and Bacon, wild hops, purple~fringed lily and so many others; including a soft woolly pinkish flower which we particularly loved. There were no restrictions and we picked blue 'pincushions, soldiers' buttons, pink boronia and blue or pink orchids in their season. Even  the local Agricultural Show had "Best Bunch of Wildflowers" on its prize schedule, and there were lovely displays in the pavilion, next to "Best Loaf of Bread" and nearby "Best Butter" in pats and in fancy arrangements. These latter drooped and melted sadly in the heat of the day, for the pavilion became very hot, but they were works of art in the form of baskets of flowers, etc.

So many of the early items have long been things of the past - interesting to look back on, but not regretted.
What a wonderful .thing is memory!