Tuesday, November 2, 2010
One brown bottle, sitting on the wall
About a year ago, I had morning tea with some old school friends, one who was at school with me from Grade One, circa 1977. That year, we made lovely singing choir boys with ping pong ball heads and yes, bodies made out of beer bottles colloquially referred to as 'stubbies'. On top was red crepe paper and a white doily to make the lace surplus of the choir boy's uniform.
I showed this little fellow (only sans clothes due to my children and their inquisitive fingers) to her. Her response was to laugh out loud, "Oh Nikki, you HAVE to throw that out!". So I did.
It was hard. I mean, vintage beer bottle you know, they don't make them like that anymore.
I had a wonderful Grade One teacher who made our first year of school a very happy one. Sr Carmel was a Presentation nun and full of love and kindness. Our classroom was an old house up on stilts. The main living area housed our desks. We did our painting and artwork on the enclosed verandah and she read to us from Gulliver's Travels in the afternoons round the side, in the sleep-out. If you got to school before the bell you could play in the dirt under the house but since I could do that any time at home, it didn't hold any appeal for me.
We put on the Nativity play for our families. One of the girls in our class had a new baby brother, so she was Mary. By the time it got to me there weren't any major roles left so I got to wear pyjamas and bring in my favourite toy for baby Jesus. I brought in my squeaky, rubber, peg.
Each year, I send Sr Carmel a Christmas card. Each year, she sends me one in return.