Writing Wednesdays

When I was young my Mother, my Grandfather and Grandmother put a lot of energy into encouraging me and my cousins to express ourselves creatively. We come from a family of writers, my Great-Grandfather, was a writer for The Herald and Weekly Times. My Grandmother has studied writing and editing and although she is not yet published, I love seeing the joy she gets when she see’s or hears something which motivates her, her whole face lights up before saying ‘That would make a great story!’. My Grandfather recently had a hip replacement and has limited mobility whilst his body recuperates. We assumed the limited mobility was driving the two of them a bit stir crazy being cooped up in the house (Don’t get me wrong they have the most beautiful apartment in North Fitzroy, but I’m sure anyone who is mostly stuck in one place for a certain amount of time would be forgiven for feeling this way!). So we went off to visit on Sunday arvo. It was lovely, we bought some mini cakes and had fesh salad rolls from the bakery, we shared stories of all our recent accomplishments and ideas, all in all I had a lovely afternoon. As the sun was starting to set at around 5:25pm we were sitting in the lounge area when Mum suddenly remembered an activity we did when I was younger to encourage me to write – The activity is pretty straightforward, you pick an object, it could be anything: a saucepan, a remote, a coaster etc… Then everyone is handed a few sheets of paper and a pen and you all just sit and write for a solid five minutes. It’s so much fun to hear everyone reading out their stories and comparing them to your own, it’s amazing how one little object can be viewed in so many different ways.

Here is what we chose to write about – a little blonde boy ornament with a cane.

 
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And here are the stories each of us came up with

My Grandmother

Herman Windshuttle put on his little cap & his brother Wilhelm’s hiking boots. He was off to Munich to join the youth movement. 

“Farewell Murri, Farewell Greta don’t lets worry about the weather” became his walking song & the brolly top flapped along in counterpoint to his strides. 

He came to the river, which at this point was small enough & friendly enough to allow him to jump.

A loud booming roar came over the low mountain range to the north. Herman took off his cap and waved proudly. They were off to spread the news of Deutschland Uber Alles, to the English cousins.

Herman actually had a cousin in Sussex somewhere, Murri wilfully spoke of her some nights. 

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My Mother (Big Pop)

Wee blonde Angus went out one day. He had no boots to keep his feet dry – just slippers and socks. He went to the town square and there at the market he purchased a bonnie green felt hat. It fitted well and his thick blonde curls just peaked out from the brim. He looked at all the stalls full of colourful fruits, vegetables and tableware. He wished his home had lovely decorative items. On the ground he found a broken tea cup that had been discarded. He picked it up and studied the hand painted flowers that decorated the fine china. What a prize! He placed it in a handkerchief and kept it in his rucksack

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My Grandfather

It was a terrible day! The rain had been puring constantly for many hours and the roads and tracks surrounding the cabin were slippery and muddy, Gillford was quite down-hearted. He planned a days hiketo the canyon and had estimated that it would take him at least 3 hours to reach his destination and he would have a lovely picnic before returning home! What a disaster! 

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And Myself…

The boy was cold. He had nothing left but the clothes on his back and the cane he used to walk after injuring hid right leg trying to escape the nazis. He estimated he had been walking for 3 days although it could well be longer as the blizzard made it hard to distinguish day from night. His mother was a teacher and a sympathiser of our local jewish community, she was taken away after being found out to be educating the the ‘undesirables’ and his father died when he was very young. At this point his snow boots and cane were all he had left, he did not know what the future held for him – but he had hope and hope is something no man could ever take from him. 

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Little Pop, signing out! 

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It was not so long ago

Today we ventured into the top of my wardrobe to de-clutter – somewhere which hasn’t been touched since we moved in.

We had a wonderful afternoon unveiling old treasures from my childhood… art work, stories, photos and so many beanie babies. We had such a good time laughing and remembering so I thought I would share a few of my favourite pieces.

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Photos from when I was just over a week old.

The caption reads ‘Asleep again, Juliet is giving me a rest’

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Clearly an artist in the making here… although I am a fan of the colour scheme.

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Experimenting with texture – the cat rather liked this one.

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‘This flower smells eggstra eggstrodinary!’. It has become apparent upon reading this eggstrodinary card that from a young age I found my own jokes much funnier than others did – I still laugh at my own jokes 😀

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This one was my favourite that I saw during this clean out.

I also found an unfinished short story I’d like to share… I wish I’d finished it because it’s rather intriguing.

‘Once upon a time, there was a boy called Sam. It was bed time at number 24 Springfield. Sam crept down the stairs, he could hear his mother and father talking about building a time machine. Sams father turned away and walked off into the shed so sam turned back and went to bed. 
In the morning he hid in the cupboards, his mother thought he had gone to school. When his Mother and Father went off to work Sam crawled out from the cupboard, he was hungry so got himself some breakfast before wandering into the shed. There was a huge box in the shed. Sam knew what it was – a time machine! Sam thought it wouldn’t hurt if he went in and had a try. When he went in he saw lots of little buttons with numbers and symbols on them, Sam pressed START. The machine then asked him to press a number so sam pressed SIX. Sam’s Mother always told him about her life growing up in the 1950’s and he has seen photos of her back then… The door opened. 
 
He was somewhere very different now, but he spotted someone familiar. It was his Mum. Sam ran up to his Mum
she said “go away shorty!”
Sam said “but, but… but Ma it’s me, your son”
Sams mother replied “I don’t have a son. Stop it, just go away you’re such a pest!”
 
Sam felt like such a nobody… his own mother couldn’t recognise him. Everybody stared and laughed at same, oh no he wasn’t wearing the right fashions. He ran to the time machine, when he got there somebody was inside. It was a hippy… The hippy said “Come with me to heaven” Sam tried to tell the hippy that this was not an elevator to heaven, it was a time machine but it was too late the weird hippy already pressed number TEN. 
 
The time machine didn’t move, it didn’t stay either. How annoying, they were stuck in thin air”
 

That’s all I have of the story… maybe one day I’ll finish it off.

We did part ways with alot of the toys and made headway with other items. When de-cluttering sentimental items it may be better to use the gently, gently approach rather than our usual ruthlessness. Besides, in all our de-cluttering and getting rid of stuff, it’s nice when you come across those few items that have personal values attached to them. There are some things worth keeping.

What are some of your favourite childhood memories you’ve found when cleaning up?

Little Pop

P.s. We were hesitant in throwing out the Beanie Babies… we aren’t sure if they’re worth anything. If you have any knowledge on this subject matter we’d love to hear from  you!