Tag Archives: birthday

No Looking Back – School’s Out and Life Begins (Pt XI)

Chapter 8 – Life After School

There was not a chance in heck that I would return to that school for another year, even with all the extra goodies thrown in to tempt me. Instead I tried to settle into my allotted duties on the station. Sadly, after a few weeks, this did not work for me either. I didn’t have any money and in hindsight I realize that this was partly the reason that we were all offered the chance to spend that first year after school at home, to save a bit of money for ourselves while working up there before entering the ‘real world’ or whatever we decided we wanted to do.

But it didn’t work for me and I found myself heading for Melbourne. For the life of me, I cannot remember why, unless someone else was going over there and I decided I wanted to go too. And I did. I was very fortunate in that Dad’s youngest sister lived there with her husband and three daughters, my cousins. The main thing I remember about that visit was buying two puppies. I have always been hopeless where pet shops are concerned and this time was no exception. These two puppies were in the window and I fell in love. I was initially only going to get one (not giving any thought at all as to where they would  go while I was still in Melbourne and then getting them home with me…none of that occurred to me at the time) but found that I couldn’t leave one so bought them both. They must have stayed with me at my aunt’s and uncle’s house then I think we flew them back to Adelaide, all at others’ expense. And it must have been arranged that someone would meet them in Adelaide and then take them up to the station. None of this occurred to me. All I wanted was those two dogs – and I got them.

I must then have returned to our station and those two dogs. In fact I then had three dogs because I still had my gorgeous little Australian Terrier that Mum and Dad bought me when I was still at school as is mentioned above. He was always my favourite. I loved those dogs so much but tragically none of them passed on naturally. Spound (Spot Hound shortened – she was white with one big black spot over her eye) drowned, I believe her sister, Blound (Black Hound shortened – needless to say she was black all over) died from snake-bite and the third, my beautiful Australian Terrier, survived distemper but the after-effects were awful. Mum and Dad kept offering to have him put down but I just couldn’t bring myself to let that happen. Poor little thing was suffering and must have been in so much pain but I just couldn’t do it. Finally, on one visit to the station, Mum and Dad told me he had finally passed on. I don’t think I asked why – as devastated as I was, I accepted that.

Back from Melbourne, I settled in Adelaide for some years. In 1973 I lived in a hostel in North Adelaide and attended business college. I had high hopes for myself there, as did my parents I think – but while I did not have any of the problems I endured at boarding school, it seemed I was not made of secretarial stuff either. My typing was OK and still is, but shorthand – forget it. And the rest of the subjects were equally useless. I graduated with a certificate, as opposed to a diploma. About half way through that year, I became very ill and was taken up to the station so Mum could look after me. While away, we got a call from the head of the hostel to tell us it was being closed down. So we had to find alternative accommodation. I was home for a while (a couple of weeks, I think) and Mum found another hostel which happened to be just down the road from my old school.

I finished that year and then it was time to join the workforce and find a flat or similar to live in. It happened that my mother’s old family home had been divided up into five separate flats, since the family had grown up and moved out. My grandparents had lived in the first flat and the last one had been used for any live-in help they had ever had. I can well remember the last tenant in that last flat, a lovely lady who never married but I always enjoyed her company and was thrilled when she came to visit Granny and Grandpa when we happened to be there too. This lady eventually moved on and I moved in with different flat-mates at different times.

I applied for a number of different employment positions, all involving office work. I did get a position in an engineering firm which was within walking distance of home. I stayed there for some months. Can’t say that I loved it – but it was work and did bring a small wage in. Then I went to NZ with a friend whom I met at business college and I had been asked not to return to that position when I came home. OK. Fine. I didn’t like it anyway and had planned to resign, but not before finding something else. However, they got in first, so that was that.

Another position I held for a short time was that of nanny/nurse for an orphanage. That was a live-in position and really interesting but for some reason that escapes me now I was not there for long.

After that, I successfully tried to get into nursing. However, at that time I had also been accepted for a position in the world of computers with one of our banks. By that stage, I didn’t need to give this much thought and I opted for the computers. And in hindsight, I am glad I did. I stayed with that bank for some years, eventually being sent to Canberra to help out over there. I cannot remember how long I was supposed to be in the ACT but I was there for 11 months. I absolutely hated the work but loved my accommodation, which happened to be one of the residential college in the ANU (Australian National University). When I first moved into this college, I was terrified. So many students. But after a week or so, I realized I needed to get out and about and did so, never looking back. I made some wonderful friends during that year, all of whom I have since lost contact with but the memories remain and they really were fun times.

At the end of that year, when many of those students moved on either into other colleges or sharing houses elsewhere in Canberra, or whatever, I decided it was time for me to move on, too. So I requested a transfer back to Adelaide. The manager and powers-that-be were not happy about it, but I told them I would resign if I couldn’t be transferred. I realized I was dicing with my job, but I was beyond caring – I just wanted to leave. I was very lucky in that I was granted the transfer and returned to Adelaide at the beginning of the following year.

When I did return to the bank in Adelaide, I found that I was allocated to a different group from before and while the girls were nice, I wasn’t as happy as I had been. After a few weeks back I was called aside and asked if I would be interested in going to Melbourne for a few weeks, all expenses paid, to ‘trouble-shoot’ and train a new employee. Now this sounded wonderful, so I accepted and off I went. I lived in a lovely suite in one of Melbourne’s best hotels, again within walking distance of the bank. I was there for a few weeks and made some wonderful friends, although lost contact with all of them. Some lovely memories there, too.

I was nearing the end of my time in Melbourne when I discovered to my elation that my bank balance was looking pretty jolly good. That was also when I made the decision to leave the bank for good and head overseas. With further investigation, I discovered why my bank balance had looked so good – it seemed I had been paid my Christmas Club cheque twice. So I had to pay that back but luckily, I still had enough to be able to fund an overseas trip.

l planned to spend about two years overseas, working and traveling, as so many do. I ended up going with a friend from the bank as well as my middle brother. My friend and I lived in a house that had been purchased especially for Australians and other international travelers. My brother went up (down – whatever) to Oxford University and stayed with one of his friends who was a student there. I found a position as an audio-typist for an insurance company and quite enjoyed the job, but was not so keen on my accommodation. Things did not work out with the latter and after a few trips over to Europe and Scandinavia, then up to Scotland, I decided to head home, back to Australia. My brother had already gone but he only ever planned to be there for a few weeks anyway.

We had flown to London on my 24th birthday. My friend and I went up to Scotland for Christmas, really hoping for a white one as we realized this might have been our only chance to ever see a white Christmas. However, as luck would have it – apparently it was too cold for snow. In fact, I don’t think it snowed while we were there at all. Darnit!

Meanwhile, my brother was due to return to Australia in time to help with shearing on the station. Now picture this. Being winter in the UK, it really was bitterly cold in England when he left there – and of course Australia was right in the grips of a typically searing hot summer. My brother must have been collected from the airport in Adelaide and went straight up to the station. He was due to muster the sheep for shearing. No time to acclimatise himself to the huge difference in temperature and I understand that this was just too much for his body to handle. Trying to shelter under trees in our Australian heat did not help. It was next to useless and I seem to recall that he actually collapsed. He was all right but it would not be something I would advise anyone to try to do. Not if you have a choice – he didn’t and therefore suffered for it. 

While I was in England my youngest brother and one of his friends flew over and stayed with us for a night or so. Then they moved onto Ireland. But they must have returned as they were able to see me off when I flew back to Australia not long after.

In those days Adelaide did not have an international airport so if you wanted to leave the country, you had to go through either one of the eastern states or Perth. As it happened, one of the girls that I worked with in London was Australian and we became very great friends. And still are. She is actually also a Godmother to one of my daughters. As I had never been to Perth and she lived here I decided this was the perfect opportunity to see it. I had been here for only a couple of weeks when I decided that this was where I wanted to settle. My family knew I would never return to Adelaide to live and was just waiting to see where I would settle. So it was no surprise to them when I called to say I was heading home, but would be returning to Perth to live.

This is my auto-biography, the story of my life and the book on which the planned film will be based. While the book was published before Christmas and is available on Amazon, for various reasons I have also decided to post the book in its entirety here, for everyone to enjoy (if they want to) free of charge.

The blurb on the back cover reads:  ‘Growing up in the outback in Australia was not the easiest life a girl could have but it wasn’t boring either. Lannah faced the challenges and enjoyed the adventures, determined to make the best of it all. Boarding school had its ups and downs with some of the bullying that is forced on many children. Lannah survived it and grew stronger in spite of it.

‘Employment, marriage and children followed.

‘Her story is uplifting, inspiring and very much an Australian look at life, love and adventure and ends with personal satisfaction, professional success and two wonderful daughters, but…then again, maybe this is just the beginning’.

From Lannah:  ‘I don’t really know who to acknowledge, or, indeed, if anyone should be acknowledged. It’s not exactly a pleasant book but I hope readers might realize that if they have been bullied, or still are, or just attended boarding school and have unpleasant memories – they are not alone’.

Lannah also hastens to add that the school in question was in no way at fault nor responsible for any of her experiences.

INTRODUCTION

This is a book which has been a long time coming. I have thought about writing it so often and have tried to start several times, but just could not get into it. However, since having ‘Red Dust Dreams – Living in the Outback’ published and released – and then having a lot of people asking me about my own education, I decided, finally, that the time is right.

Basically, ‘No Looking Back’ is about just that but the complete opposite – it is about looking back. Looking back at my secondary school days – all six years of them. And my memories of those years – which are awful. In the years since leaving school in 1972 I have often had nightmares (and, no, I certainly cannot call them dreams – not even bad dreams) about trying to leave the place. Trying to leave that school – for good. Even if, for some reason in the dream, I have only gone back for a very short time – a week, a month, whatever – I still have problems with leaving. I know I do eventually get through that time thinking that it is only temporary and I am about to leave again, this time for good.

Most people that I know have wonderful memories of their school days and are thrilled when a reunion is announced. Not me. I have attended one reunion in that city – about 20 years ago and decided – never ever again. Not saying I didn’t enjoy it – I did, to a limit. I didn’t really want to accept and attend – but did, out of curiosity. Most of the girls that I saw at the reunion were pleasant enough – all except a few were day girls (or day bugs as we used to call them – I hate to think what they called us) and they did talk to me and were nice. I even talked with a couple of the boarders who were also OK. We weren’t friends at school – but the years have passed and most of us have grown up and matured. But there was one particular boarder with whom I will never be friends – she disliked me from the outset and that has never changed. It’s no loss to me – but I was interested to see how she would react to me at the reunion. I saw her across the room and thinking that the other couple of boarders I had already spoken with were pleasant – I thought I would try to approach her and see what happened. She saw me coming and turned on the spot, even though I smiled at her and it was a real smile – well, let’s just say it’s no loss. We will never be friends.

And yes, I was bullied. Mainly verbally but, believe me, that can hurt too. Sometimes more than physical bullying.’

ABOUT THAT SCHOOL

Yes, I did have an awful time during my six years as a boarder at that school, but I do not blame the school, nor the staff, for a minute. It was a very good school – certainly one of the oldest and best in that city, but then most of the boarding schools there were (and some still are) full of history, including mine. Something of which they should be extremely proud.

Being bullied and disliked as much as I was from go to wo, wasn’t pleasant and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Particularly as a boarder. There is no escape. Most of mine was verbal but there were a couple of physical incidents that have been described a little more in their relevant chapters.

And yes, I did complain. Once. This all occurred back in the 1960s-70s, before bullying and the like were really acknowledged. But I did eventually complain to a couple of the then staff members, both responding with the suggestion that I should try harder to get along with the other girls. Ok. That wasn’t going to work and I knew it, so that didn’t help. I did also try to tell my parents – just once – and was ignored.

These days, bullying is acknowledged and taken very seriously and – usually, but not always – acted upon.

Our meals at school were lovely. We must have had kitchen staff to do the cooking but I also remember being on roster to do the dishes. And I think it was a ‘help-yourself’ at the little servery ledge between the kitchen and dining room. We used to have a good old faithful roast (lamb, pork or chicken) on Friday nights and it was a real treat, even if it happened every week. I would not have missed that for anything – even one particular Friday when my mouth was full of ulcers, I had a sore that, pimples on my tongue and cold sores all over my lips – but there was no way I was not going to eat that roast. So I put up with the pain – and it was agony. I have always liked salt and as far as I was concerned, what’s a roast without salt and gravy – especially home made gravy. Although I think the gravy we had with our roasts at school was from a packet given the number of girls they had to feed. Needless to say, that salt only aggravated the pain – but I still ate. Our sweets (puddings/desserts) were yummy too. Either that or we were all just too plain hungry not to eat. I have no idea whether we had any vegetarians or vegans amongst us, but they were not catered for if there were.

MY CHILDHOOD IN THE OUTBACK

I have very happy memories of my childhood, growing up on our family sheep station. It was different –  not that I realized it then. I think I figured that all children lived in the country and had similar childhoods – didn’t they? No. They didn’t. Even on the occasional trip to the city and seeing other children (mainly one or two cousins), it still never occurred to me that their childhood was different to mine. Or should I say, perhaps mine was the different one. As I found out a few years later when everything started to change – and I was sent down to boarding school.

I have no idea how old a person usually is when their memory starts to kick in, but the earliest of mine is one of staying with some of our neighbours on their station. It was my firth birthday – actually, I am not sure whether that’s true but for some reason every time I have thought about this, the age of five keeps popping up so I am sticking with it. Mum and Dad had gone to Melbourne for the Commonwealth Games and my brother (the next one up) and I stayed with our ‘aunt and uncle’ (not blood relations) on their station, as mentioned above. I do have a photo (good old black and white) of my brother and me sitting on the lawn, surrounded by my presents. I was in my ‘mu-mu’ – I think there is a proper name for it but I’ve never known it so I stick to ‘mu-mu’.

Being raised in the outback, we did not necessarily do the same things as city children did. Most of our play time was outside, in the fresh air, running around and getting plenty of exercise which, I think, was probably pretty normal for most children, city and country. But we couldn’t visit our friends to play, unless we planned to stay with them overnight or something. They were too far away. I consider myself very fortunate in that respect as I did have my youngest brother and our cousin. She also had some friends from the city who used to come up and stay sometimes. I really was not a part of that, but when we were by ourselves, we did have some fun times.

Television was introduced in the 1950s-1960s and we had our brand new set in our lounge room. Initially we had the ABC and some years later a local network, Channel 4, began. All black and white. The day’s viewing started with the good old test pattern before going into the scheduled programmes. We got the news of course and the weather and some other programmes in those very early days.

Our telephone was on a party line too. The switchboard was only open at certain hours so you had to make or take any calls in the specified hours and being a party line there was always the chance that everyone connected (ie stations for kilometres around) could and would be listening in. Reckon it was the best grapevine in the world!

The CWA (Country Women’s Association) was very strong in those days – in fact, it has always been a feature for the women in the country, both rural and remote. I understand my paternal grandmother was one of the first presidents of our local branch, followed by Mum. I have learned more recently that the above mentioned cousin’s mother was also involved with the CWA but I think it must have been a different branch. Mum was president for what seemed like forever to me. They even had a special hall built – which remains to this day although now completely unused as far as I know. I even tried to start the CGA (Country Girls’ Association) – one other girl turned up but that was only because she had to come along with her mum to the CWA meeting. My CGA lasted one whole day. I never became friends with any of the other girls of my age in the district.

Education was provided by the School of the Air (SotA) based in Port Augusta. Their end of year get together was a lot of fun and something to really look forward to. It was the time we got to meet, face to face, the other station children connected to the SotA. In those days that was the only time we saw them and had the chance to play with them. These get togethers included a nativity play and I was cast as Mary one year. That was wonderful – my parents were very proud of me, not that I realized it at the time. I was too nervous. I was given the wrong words for the singing so I found myself miming the whole way through. And being heartily congratulated afterwards – maybe I missed my calling in life?

While my memories of SotA are not numerous, there are a couple that spring to mind. The above was one. Another one was one of my birthdays. In this particular year it fell on a weekend. At the end of the daily SotA lesson, students were allowed to share any news that they had and anything they felt was important. Well, my birthday was very important and usually such occasions were mentioned by the teacher. But this did not happen on the Friday, so I figured I needed to do something about it. So I did. The teacher responded that she had planned to mention it on Monday. Ok, I accepted that and thanked her. A few minutes later, however, I heard footsteps, fast approaching down the verandah. They were heavy, fast and were definitely on a mission. Mum! Oops! Mum listened in to the radio lessons through the set in the lounge room and would have heard me. Those footsteps meant I was in trouble. And I was. I cannot recall what exactly happened and I don’t think I want to. All I do know is that it kind of dampened my birthday somewhat and I dreaded the SotA lesson on Monday, as I knew the teacher would mention it.

To Be Continued Next Blog