A Brand New Beginning

......
Mum's mother didn't approve of my dad, saying he wasn't good enough for her. She was a feisty opinionated lady, made tough by losing the family orchard in the depression and having to move to town.

I don't remember my grandfather, who died when I was very young. Now Mum has gone, I can't even ask her about him. I don't know why we never did, and it's a lesson to us all that family history goes into the ether when that generation is gone unless we make an active effort to pass it on.

My grandmother did offer assistance to the family that had grown so suddenly and unexpectedly, and paid fifteen hundred pounds for a quarter acre block of land at the newly subdivided Beaumaris. My father had available to him a low interest War Service Loan of three thousand pounds and the building of a new house was underway.

In 1956, 'contemporary' style houses were all the rage. Large timber windows from floor to ceiling, and low sloping roofs covered with the dreaded asbestos were considered very stylish. Our new home was twelve squares, with one bathroom, but a separate shower room, toilet, three bedrooms, a kitchen/dining area, and a long lounge area with an open fire place.

Mum was quite artistic, and had a leaning towards Edna Walling Style gardening. She designed a beautiful garden around the house, taking in all the native tea trees and gums. On a sloping block, they built assorted stepped levels, linked by slate covered steps. The soil was very sandy and drained too quickly, and my grandmother would bring bags of mulched soil from her home in the Dandenongs, so they could dig it into the garden beds.

Beaumaris was completely undeveloped then and we were the second house in the street, which was just graded gravel and sand. The street rapidly filled up with young families, until the child head count reached fifty six. We made friends rapidly, and our leisure time was spent playing marbles in the dirt, tiggy, hide and seek, and many other carefree games of that era. No time for today's computer games and television; we were out climbing trees, and playing make believe with the now politically incorrect cowboys and Indians. I always loved horses and my 'pretend' horse was always 'Hi Yo Silver' from the Lone Ranger, so I would call out,

"A fiery horse with the speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty 'Hi-yo Silver!' The Lone Ranger!"


... which was the beginning of the radio show. Embarrassing, huh? But we were so innocent.

The Lone Ranger began in the 1930's and went on as movies, a radio show, and then a television series. He was the quintessential masked hero, who had a 'faithful Indian companion' called Tonto.

I loved that beautiful white horse, and I drew him and others endlessly in my room, filling sketch pads with horses in every position. A beautiful horse can still take my breath away, and only yesterday I was watching a performance of El Caballo Blanco, Australia's dancing stallions, and same that feeling still washed over me.