Childhood Memories

23 hardcover Martha Finley books on Ebay. Also 15 Elsie books available on Cd. Go get `em, tiger. Edited by Nighttrain, : Smiley insert

Short(gag)excerpt from my upcoming book on my schooldays at Fortitude Valley State School:I went to the Fortitude Valley Primary school and had a variety of life-shaping experiences there. Sport was almost compulsory, although never guided by teachers. We all knew the rules and woe betide any infractions. The older lads soon brought you down to earth if you stepped out of line. Being an argumentative bugger, I had many a battle with fellow classmates as well as the older lads. One I remember well. Keith Farnsworth (an older lad) and I had a disagreement over something and, each lunchtime, we waited till the teachers disappeared into their restroom, circled each other, fell into a mutual Indian Deathlock, rolling on the ground for the rest of the lunch break, ringed by a crowd of onlookers till the school bell sounded. This went on for a fortnight till we lost interest in whatever the squabble was about and went our separate ways. Can`t remember what the point was, Farnsy, but I was definitely in the right.Football was rugged at most schools as the centre of the field was occupied by a regulation cricket pitch---in concrete. Trick was to avoid getting tackled there. The tackler usually cooperated as HE didn`t want to land there, either. The field was lush in places and 50/50 grass and dust elsewhere so we tended to look like little grubs back in school. A washup at the troughs installed under the school didn`t help much as the taps were equipped with spikes to discourage lip drinking. Wonder who thought up that bright idea? Since nearly everyone went barefoot except at cricket on Fridays, we were just about immune to bacteria. One time I ran a three inch nail through my big toe while walking through an abandoned lot and the nursing sister at the Royal Brisbane Hospital broke two needles trying to give me a tetanus injection through a leathery sole.Summertime naturally was given over to cricket. If you think bouncers off a turf wicket are fearsome, try batting on concrete. I still have a flattened middle finger from where I tried to dodge a bouncer from Jack Ellis. Served me right for putting the bat in front of my head. You were an instant hero if you could hit a six onto the Council Workshops roof next door, but I don`t think too many made it. Our cricket wardrobe supplied by the Education Department ran to two bats, two balls and TWO pads. So if you were batting and given out, you had to run towards the next batsman and give him your pad. Best match we ever played was against Chermside State School on a field where the Kedron-Wavell RSL now stands. Part way through the game, the opposition kids asked us if we knew about yabbies (freshwater crustacea)in the near-by creek, so we persuaded the teachers controlling the match to declare it a draw and the country boys taught the city kids how to catch yabbies with meat-on-a-string.Teachers were in short supply during my middle years at the Valley so we had our head teacher handling three classes in the big hall. Trouble was, he had a drinking problem and chalked several problems on the blackboard , then disappeared into his office for a couple of hours. Boys being boys, things usually got out of hand and we would be sprung in mid-flight by his return and face the cane. We kept dropping his canes down inside an old upright piano, so eventually he resorted to pulling palings off the fence. This went swimmingly till one day he used one with a nail still in it and whacked Brian Barnett. The howl stopped the head in his tracks and Brian tore off home to get his father. Shortly after, this burly chap hove into view and the headmaster disappeared for the rest of the day.One day, someone discovered the school supplies cupboard was unlocked and started distributing school pens. These had a nib set in a wooden holder, and were issued for copybook writing. The big hall had a very high ceiling, close-boarded on the inside up the rake of the roof. Bit like a church. Some bright spark decided to start throwing the pens up into the ceiling to see if they would stick. Some did, and when they didn`t, you had to scatter as they came spearing down. Many boxes of pens later, we had exhausted our ammunition and our devious minds turned to other plots. The headmaster never noticed anything for a couple of weeks and we had grown used to the prickly porcupine ceiling. One day, he was talking to us and tilted his head back in reflection and his mouth fell open. I can still see it all these years later. What must have been hundreds of pens were hanging from their nibs. He gagged and gagged, speechless for minutes. Naturally, we knew nothing about it””must have been other kids in here at lunchtime, sir’. They were hanging so high in the air that the Public Works men sent to remove them were stumped for a few weeks. They just looked up and shook their heads in admiration.The same headmaster must have been running low on cash, so he organized a treasure hunt with a big prize. The Valley Football Club members were training on the school grounds and had reported loosing spare change as they ran around the oval. Our head sent the whole school on a hunt across the playing field with a ”big prize’ to the kid who found the most money. We scarcely left a blade of grass untouched. Guess who found the most? Muggins Me fronted up with four shillings and sixpence and got the prize---a mouldy banana left over from his lunch. Meanwhile, the head took the gleanings and headed up the road to the Jubilee pub.---------------Any unusual terms used in this snippet can be explained by our Pommy members.

Sounds like a normal background for EvC members, Doc. :-p

Hey, what gives, Brad? Your grandma never mentioned Croizat once.