Two blocks south was Sutherland Primary my school from five years old.
Miss Cropp was my first teacher in kindergarten.
Stories
Maybe this is a way to fill up the empty column, which I guess is used for paid ads. I awoke about 8.30 this morning . My neck and back did not hurt so much. I hesitated to go to the washroom, because I think my son had a girlfriend staying with him overnight and I did not want to confront her. He had three girls visit him last night and there was a bit too much thumping on the floor, probably from music, and the weight-lifting he does to develop his muscles (he is stronger than me now.). After a neighbour came to complain, I had to knock on his door and ask him to keep the noise down. Since I am partly deaf I did not hear much, but we don't want to be evicted from this townhouse. I told them they had to out by midnight and no sleeping over, but I suspect one of them stayed. I don't want arguments with my eighteen-year-old son, who hardly talks to me, almost totally ignoring me. This upsets me. So when I was pretty sure they had gone, I had breakfast of wheaties and coffee, a banana, nectarine and a few grapes then went upstairs and worked for a while on this blogsite. At about eleven I decided to go out. I did not take the car as there is a parking problem downtown. I have a yearly transit bus pass and took a half dozen books I donated to the senior center by bus to the skytrain at 29th station, got out at Main St and took the Frazer bus downtown to the S.center near the Catholic Cathedral. I talked with a number of friends there and bought quite cheaply some books, Impressionism, Art, and one of barns. It was a good deal. Too bad I have no-one who will appreciate all my many books when I pass on. Ditto for my many woodworking tools. This son has no interest at all in tools or books . I have never seen him pick up a book in all these years except when he was younger, the Harry Potter stuff and a few fantasy books and the obligatory school books. To him the electronic age does not include books....computer, Ipod and all the rest of the regalia are his interests. My other sons in Montreal, I would give them any of these things but they don't even talk to me by computer. Most of the values I have, books paintings and painting landscapes, playing guitar and banjo seem of no interest to anyone I know. I am becoming increasingly isolated, I suppose and maybe that is a natural consequence of getting old. Younger people don't want to associate with you, because it reminds them they are not immortal. . This afternoon I had a Chinese meal, came home and then took two little kids and their mum to the supermarket five minutes away. They are little boys about six and they did not behave. I bought two frozen steak dinners, some yogurt, eggs, butter and the boys' mother wanted a gallon of milk, which I gave her. She is expecting another one iun a few weeks. Of course the boys wanted some stuff too and I was lucky not to have to buy more than some chips and a candy each. They were running down the aisles pulling things down. That is the last time I will take them anywhere. Well then I had a nap, some more computer, ate a frozen dinner and strawberry yogurt and gave the same to Brian, who prepared his own. He won't eat anything I prepare. At 10 p.m. I realized I had seen the Soprano show before and thumbing the gadget of the t. v. of all the fifty or so channels there was nothing I was interested in. So that was my day. I forgot to say the weather was sunny and not too warm. Most of my days are similar, comfortable but boring. I have a cellphone but rarely use it. Who would I call? No-one calls me except telemarketers and government departments, presumably to note whether I am still alive. My son when he is out late (he does not come home sometimes) does not pick up his cell-phone when he notes my number calling and never calls me to say he won't be home. He exasperates me so much that I often think it would be better for him to go get his own place, but he hasn't the money. An apartment here can cost over a thousand a month and he pays no rent here, just enough for food etc. He pays half the cable and internet and electricity also, but gives me only $194 a month for everything. he goes out and earns two thousand a month and spends every bit of it going out with friends and doing whatever they all do. I hope not drugs. He saves nothing and I don't really want to leave him money when I depart, because whatever the amount is, it would be gone in a couple of months. I suspect that Richard in Montreal is similar, but John seems to be much more steady. Pity he does not talk to me either. Well I feel better getting it all down on paper and I don't think I will use this blog as a diary.by Ric W.
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Something similar story to my grandmother Lucy Williams (nee Pike) who was part Aboriginal but the family will not admit it. My website is http://www.freewebs.com/daone89/index.htm
Thanks, Cedric. Your site is very interesting.
On that site Cedric writes:
He lives in Canada these days, but I note his life (like mine) goes back to The Shire and Woronora Cemetery. It was in the bush near there that I first sensed that haunted spirit of the bush which D H Lawrence so perceptively describes in Kangaroo, and as Cedric says, I now believe (without being all Twilight Zone about it) it was some sense of this:
One found traces here and there in rock overhangs, or grooves on rocks by the creek, and one wondered…
Go and read Cedric’s stories.
Neil, I will write something properly on this post because it deserves promotion. I have given Warren’s business two plugs so far in stories.
On Cedric, I looked at his site. I wonder whether he went to school at TAS or De la Salle. I was interested in the Armidale connection.
Thanks Jim, I was at T.A S. for awhile but because my family could not afford the fees I transferred to Armidale High School and boarded at St John’s Anglican. I remember playing De la Salle College rugby union and they almost always won, because I was told they did not get supper if they lost the game.
I used to eat pie peas and potatoes at Sourris cafe. Peter Sourris was in fifth year when I was in fourth. He was in my dorm, as was Geoff Nunn who was a champion butterfly stroke swimmer and also there was a son of a Tenterfield bank manager whose name i can’t recall but who was a swot and came first in most subjects.
I remember bicycling out to Black Mountain and excursions to Walcha and the surrounding bushland. I have a story about it and I will try to persuade my son to put it on the webpage soon.