No more Camellias

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No more Camellias

By Judith Joyce

Max my husband & I started growing camellias in 1974. We already had some large ones in our garden but we wanted a few more. Max knew of a few nurseries that grew camellias’ so seeing it was camellia season we thought we would go and take a look at some

The first one we went to was called "Camellia Grove" which was at St Ives. 

Button N Bows

Big Mistake because of this place we really fell in love with these wonderful flowers for here there were so many different colours, shapes and sizes we didn't know which ones we wanted. "Camellia Grove” was one of the dearest nurseries (so we found out), but I really fell in love with one called "Button N Bows” Our collection had started.

So starting the next weekend and now armed with the catalogue we had acquired from Camellia Grove in which we marked all the camellias we would like to obtain. We set out in search of other nurseries that sold our precious flowers, hopefully much cheaper than the last one.
The first ones we tried were “The Three Bears” at Pennant Hills and Hargraves and Swane’s at Dural. They all had a good collection of the three well-known species to choose from. We were looking for Japonica (which were our favourite) and they were cheaper than the Grove.

We made a few additions to our collection the first weekend, one of which was Dahlohnega a beautiful white with a cream yellow tinge and a formal double bloom. Then the next weekend we were out again and we saw another that we liked, then another. So by the time we arrived home we had a dozen or so plants and we said “that will do us, we have enough now”.

Then we made another big mistake, we went and bought a camellia book with over a thousand different camellias with their photos in it.

As we went through the book we fell in love with so many we then had to find out where we could acquire these precious flowers.

I didn’t have a computer at the time so it was out with the Yellow pages looking up camellia growers, finding out if they had the ones we wanted. When we found the ones we were searching for, we would head off in the car the following weekends travelling all over Sydney and beyond, buying plants of all shapes and sizes. And every time when we arrived home with our bargains we would say “that’s it no more camellias”.

Then we discovered the Camellia shows, this was another source of viewing camellias. So off we would go again and saw more that we liked and not being able to resist we would travel home with another load.  

At first I was not so keen on Sasanqua but as our collection grew I started to like them more. They had a few advantages over the japonicas (which needed semi shade) Sasanquas could grow in full sun. They also were fast growing and bloomed a lot earlier, so having different varieties meant we had flowers in our garden for a longer time. So now we started to add them to our collection.

When our children were born we planted a camellia to commemorate the day. For my daughter it was “Japonica Susan Stone” a delicate pale pink formal double.

For our son it was “Sasanqua Mine-No-Yuki” a white semi double peony flower. They are both growing remarkably well and just like our two children my son’s plant is a lot taller than my daughter’s.

We then found that there were that there were some camellias that had lovely perfumes so we said, “we must have some of them” so the hunt was on again. Some of these were the original species and were very small but their perfume was divine.

And again we said no more, but as before we found one more variety that we must have. They were called Reticulata. They had huge beautiful flowers some up to 15cm in diameter, so some of these were added to our collection

In all we collected over one hundred and fifty different camellias of every size colour and shape and we love every one of them.

 No more camellias, ha, ha they are our famous last words.

CRACKER NIGHT

By Judith Joyce

When I was a child, Cracker night was, after Christmas the second most important celebration of the year. Even thinking about that special night would make my heart race.

   The lead up to cracker night was almost as exciting as the night itself. All us kids would get a shoe box and start filling it with fireworks bought with our pennies we had been saving up all year. Sometimes my elder brother would think of us. He would come home from work with bags full of crackers that were divided amongst us kids. These shoe boxes were hid under our bed, so we could keep them safe. From time to time we would take them out to see what we had and to make sure they were all still there, and what an array of different crackers there were. Among the collection there was penny bungers, tom thumbs, skyrockets, jumping jacks, Catherine wheels, Roman Candles, Mount Vesuvius, sparklers and many more.

   Cracker night also meant the building of a bonfire. It was the tasked of all us to devote our afternoons in the lead up to cracker night to build it. We would hunt every where to find enough wood and junk to make it big enough to last all night. My dad would hammer nails on the fence for the Catherine wheels, and fill bottles with sand for the skyrocket, now all was set for the big night.

  Finally the great night would arrive; we couldn’t wait till it got dark so we could start the fun.  Then it was on, the fire would be lit and go up in a blaze, then the fun would start. Roman candles would bath us in a silvery shiny light, jumping jacks would pursue us around the back yard, tom thumbs would do the same if you lit the whole string. I love to hold the sparklers and race around the yard holding them up using them as a sparkling torch. Dad would light the Catherine wheels and we would watch as they made their perfect circle of dazzling colour.  The penny bungers made the loudest noise especially when my brothers put them under a tin can. They would go off with a tremendous BANG taking the tin can with it.

   One of my older brothers or Dad would have to launch the skyrockets and us little kids were told to stand back in case they went the wrong way which one invariably did. Rockets were stuck into bottles of sand and the wick would be lit then whoosh off they would go into the sky, then bang they would go with a shower of sparkling coloured stars and fill the night with light.

Some of the crackers especially Skyrockets were fizzers for when you lit them they would just go fizz and let out a few sparks pop out of the bottle and land a few feet away and die. What a disappointment for we had spent our hard money on a dud.

   My sister had a disappointing time one year. We were all letting our crackers off early in the night when a jumping jack landed in her shoe box of crackers. The whole lot went off, one after another and in a few seconds they were all gone. I can still remember the look on her face she was so upset. We offered her some of ours but it just wasn’t the same. But it taught us all a good lesson, to never leave our boxes of crackers anywhere near where a spark could get to them.

   All too soon the light show was over for we all had ran out of crackers.

 When the adults went inside we would stay by the fire looking up at the sky to see other people’s skyrockets but by that time the air was so full of smoke that it was getting difficult to see much at all. Reluctantly we all headed for bed to dream of the exciting time we had just had.

   The next morning we were up bright and early too go and hunt under every rock and cranny for the fireworks that had not exploded and we use to find quite a few. We would then have fun letting them off for the second time.  Much to our disappointment cracker night was over and we would have to wait for another year for all the excitement to begin again.

  So I really want to thank the man who must have lived somewhere in China for giving me so much fun and enjoyment for that one special night of each year.

Story about our dog Marley

IF THEY DIDN’T HAVE ME

By Judith Joyce

Hi my name is Marley I am a Caviler King Charles spaniel, and I think I am adorable. I was adopted by my now mum and dad when I was only eight weeks old.

Before me they had a Chow named Cassin who never chewed, played with toys, got on the bed or did any of the fun stuff I do.

Because they love me so much they had to compromise the way they liked to live to make me happy

When I first took up residency with them I was not fully house trained so to stop me doing any think on the carpet my parents closed the kitchen doors but I scratched at them so much the paint was coming off. So they had to cordon off the house with baby gates and barriers, making very it difficult to move freely from one room to another.

Next little teeth marks started appearing on the low lying furniture and the handles of the kitchen cupboards. Mum sprayed them with some strong smelling stuff and yuck it tasted vile too, so no more teeth marks appeared.

Dad and mum had nice row of pot plants along the edge of the patio which could be seen from the back windows. Then somehow the foliage stated to be stripped off and chewed up leaves were scatted all over the place. So of cause all the plants had to be moved up the back behind a fence and now if they want to look at them they have to walk a bit of away to see them, at least they got more exercise that way.

 As you can see I love to chew and I do not care what it is or who it belongs to if I can get it I will chew it. A few week after I arrived in my new home my dad left his good sandals on the floor, I thought they were left there for me so while my parents were occupied with other things I chewed the buckle  right off one. I didn’t know I was doing something wrong, it was great fun for me.

I love it when my human nephew comes over to our house, for he often leaves his toys on the ground and sadly they are now no good for anyone.

 So now things of value have to be put out of my reach, but sometime they forget or something is dropped on the floor accidentally and I have a good chew on it and I am not too popular when I do.

If mum or dad sits on the lounge chair or the bed they have to make room for me as well either on their knee or snuggled right up against them.

 I also like to get under their doona when they get into bed but this is where they draw the line and I have to compromise, for if I want to sleep in their bedroom I have to sleep in my own pen in my own bed. But if I am let out early before they want to get up I sometimes snuggle under the covers and go to sleep and they do not know that I am there, or so I think.

Before my parents adopted me they had free time to sit around and relax; now mum and dad play

Marley all Rugged Up

Frisbees or ball with me and take me for walks instead. These are the things I really love as well as eating and chewing.

 I have lots of toys fluffy ones, rubber ones that squeak, balls of different sizes, knots of rope and other things and I love scattering them all over the house. Mum and dad have to watch were they put their feet or they could tread on them. I love it when they tread on a squeaky toy when they are not expecting it for it often gives them a real fright.

I also leave a lot of little white hairs on the lounge on their cloths and on any flat surface also when it is wet there is a lot of muddy paw prints all over everything, so they have to spend a lot more time cleaning the house. Before they have visitors they pick up all my toys and put them in my bed but in no time I have them all over the house again.

My friend Panda the cat has to compromise too, if he wants to sit on his favorite lounge he has to put up with me sitting on it with him. Sometimes he doesn’t mind sometimes he does.

My parents hope I will grow out of a lot of my silly habits when I am around sixteen months to two years, but if I do there goes all my fun. So I am going to keep them on their toes as long as I can.

If they didn’t have me they could live their life a little bit different, but I know my parent love me as much as I love them, so whatever I do they will keep on compromising. 

Homeless old Lady

Homeless old Lady

By Judith Joyce

The women was old, hunched over and Grey

Bent with the chill of the cold winter’s day

Walking all alone loaded down with bags

Worn out and miserable her clothes were mere rags

All her earthly Possessions in the bags by her side

                                            She has no where to live or shelter or hide

The constant cold chilled her right to the bone

And that terrible felling that she is always alone

She is smelly and dirty and hungry and lean

Soaked by rain but could never get clean

The bench is were she rests her weary head

While thinking about a lovely warm bed

She Sat on the park bench and waited so long

For one kind word from the passing throng

But instead she heard the people who passed by her say

You dirty old bag lady please go away

She remembered when she was the same as they

Then the life she knew was taken away

She was a lot younger and full of life

And she could have been somebody’s wife

The day that it happened was wet as can it be

She was crossing the road and she could not see

Then out of nowhere a car came into her view

She saw it coming and she didn’t know what to do

 The force of the hit sent her into the air

Landing back on the ground and going nowhere

Her body was twisted her face was a mess

The driver that hit her was in great distress

The accident left her all ugly and bent

Unable to work much less pay the rent

Her furniture was sold to keep her alive

Deserted by friends how could she survive

That is why she is now roaming the streets

Begging for food from the people she meets

By chance if you meet her as you go by

Please give her a smile and even say hi!

So be kind to all the homeless people you meet

For someday you to could be out on the street

Don’t turn up your nose as you pass them by

For there by the grace of god, go you or I

Memories of my mum

MEMORIES OF MY MOTHER

By Judith Joyce

CARING is love and doing things for others

Many people believe that nothing compares to a mother's love.  A mother's love is selfless and never ending.  It can endure all the trials that life throws its way.  It is the kind of love that often times gets overlooked because it comes so naturally and does not demand attention from those they care for.

This was my mum.

 I came from a large family with a lot of mouths to feed there was never enough money to go around so my mother had to work

At first because I was too young to go to school mum had to take me with her because she couldn’t afford to pay anyone to look after me. 

She worked as a domestic for different rich people around the area we lived, working hard all day cooking, washing and cleaning and then she would have to come home and care for her own family doing the same domestic work well into the night.

Not only did she have her own eight children to look after but she also cared for my dad’s youngest brother who was confined to a wheel chair and was mentally impaired.

Mum was a very good cook and we always had plenty of food, not fancy but always very tasty. Most of the fruit and veggies came from our garden that dad took care of. My dad also his own chock and ducks. We also ate baked rabbit which dad either caught or mum brought for six pence each. Sometimes we even had kangaroo.

Every Saturday we would have mums specialty pikelets with Honey or Lemon and sugar on them. She would keep cooking them till we all had enough. I do not remember her sitting down and eating any herself at least not until we had all finished.

Sunday lunches we always had a baked dinner which was always roast Hogget (lamb was too expensive) But the way mum cooked it, it was as tender as lamb.

For tea on Sunday night we would always have Mum’s famous Scones followed by home cooked fruit topped with homemade ice-cream or custard.

Even though money was tight birthdays always meant a party with enough food to feed an army, all made with mums loving hands.  

Christmas meant another feast. Mum always beat us kids out of bed on Christmas morning (around 5am) to make the Christmas pudding which was so big it took hours to boil. And what a lovely pudding it was.

 She would not stop working on Christmas morning till the lovely dinner was all served up on the plates of the crowd of people that came for lunch and that included her children, my nanna’s and granddad, aunts uncles and later her children’s spouses and the grand children.

Almost every thing we had for the festive season was either made or grown by mum or dad.

Lots of our gifts were also hand made, cloths, aprons knitted jumpers, scarfs, hats  and crochet  rugs were loving made by mum and wooden toy, stools, cases and a lot more were made by dad.

Mum made all the families cloths so well that some were even passed from the oldest to the youngest, and being the third youngest I sometimes longed for something new or shop brought.

If I wanted a costume for a fancy dress ball mum always came up with something different every time and often her design won a prize.

I remember when I took a Main part in “The Gondoliers” and when the costume hire people let the school down the mums were asked to fill in. My mum had only a few days to make a full satin costume with a wig and all the trimmings for a king and she never complained she just went ahead and did a grand job.  

Even after I left home my mother still showed how much she cared. I was by myself and didn’t have much money and mum & dad would come to visit laden down with boxes of food and other goodies so I wouldn’t starve to death. If I wanted to visit my parents  Mum would always insist in coming to pick me up and take me home to save me money although it would have cost them a lot in petrol for sometime I lived a long way from home.

Even when mum was sitting down she would be doing something. She would be knitting sewing or crocheting or doing, other handcrafts, most of the things she made were not for herself but for others.

Every Child, Grandchild & even some of the great grandchildren have a beautiful crochet rug made by my mother loving hands, some of them taking her months to finish.

Mine I will treasure always along with all the cloth she knitted for my children which I still have. 

My Mum worked very hard for her family for many years of her life. She did washing, ironing, cleaning, cooking, shopping and sewing and many other thing that we never knew about and without much help, never complaining just doing what she knew she had to do.

 And if this is not caring I do not know what is.

 My dear mum is gone now and I miss very much. I thank her for all that she taught me and for the care she showed me.

I love you mum.

Their Accidental love

Their Accidental Love

By Judith Joyce

Judy was over the moon, not only had she passed her driving license but she also had her very own brand new car, two things she thought she would ever achieve. It had taken her a long time accomplish this, but now she had both at last. This meant she could go out without relying on anyone for a lift, and there were lots of places she wanted to go.

She had read in the local paper the Dundas Musicale Society were starting rehearsals, for “The Pirates of Penzance”. This was something Judy always wanted to do, and now she could.

Off she went the next Friday night and enjoyed it so much she decided to keep on going.

She was a bit shy at first but soon she started to get to know some of the others in the company, and was fitting in well.

Then one night on her way home, at the intersection that she always dreaded for there was a bend in the road and you couldn’t see cars coming the other way until they were right on top of you, Judy was involved in a car accident. She wasn’t hurt just badly shaken up, but not so her car, the front of it was a real mess. The left mudguard was nearly ripped off, not a pretty sight for a fairly new car. It would take awhile to get it repaired, so would off the road for some time.

Judy was devastated, not only was her lovely car a mess, she would have to miss going to rehearsals, because the only way to get to them was by car. Then the day before the next rehearsal night, a member from the musicale society rang her to say he had heard about her accident and he had arranged for another member to pick her up, who only lived a few streets away. His name was Max and he was a new member like her. When he arrived she remembered she had seen him at the company and she had spoken to him a few times, so they were not complete strangers.

From then on they got to know each other very well. Max started to take Judy to church and to other meetings they had to go to. Even after her car was repaired Judy never went in it to the musical society again, for Max Said “Why take two cars when I live so close to you. This please Judy no end.

 Judy and Max were always seen together from then on; wherever Max was Judy was always there too. Someone even paired them up in the show, Judy having to sit on Max’s

knee and this bought them even closer together and they fell madly in Love. By the end of the show they had announced their engagement and were married at the end of the same year.

They have been married now for nearly forty years and during that time they have had their ups and downs but they still love each other very much. From this union two lovely children were born a girl and a boy. They now also have a handsome grandson, who is a real to joy to them.

Thinking back over her life Judy still wonders if she hadn’t had that car accident would she and Max have come to know each other the way they did and would they have fell in love and got married. But I suppose now she will never know will she?

My Castle in the bush

MY CASTLE IN THE BUSH

By Judith Joyce

  I was only very young when I first saw it and I thought I was seeing things. Places like this only exited in far away places or in fairy tales, not here in Australia, in a suburb of Sydney. I closed my eyes thinking that it might go away but when I opened up my eyes again, I saw it was still there so I knew it must be real. There it was Perched high upon a headland standing out like a sore toe surrounded by dense Australian bush. Every where you went around Castle Crag and Castle Cove, you could see this very special place.

  What was it you ask; well it was a gothic sandstone castle, a real castle that was nothing like any of the other houses that were built in the area.

Being a young child I asked a lot of question about my castle and I was told it was Willis’s, later I found out it was called Innisfallen Castle  but we kids only knew it as  Willis’s Castle; this was after the people who built it and at that time still own and lived there.

  I fell in love with this castle in the bush and I longed to go and see it up close. So I asked my older brother and sister how I could to get to it and they told me that the Castle was a long, long way along a rough bush track, too far for me to go. The only other way to it was by water, which was also out of my reach, so all I could do was see it from afar.

  I started to imagine what it would be like to live in such a fairy tale place  

 I imagined that it was my own very special place where I could go in my mind when I was lonely and think up lovely stories. I loved to read and I also had a vivid imagination so these skills came in very handy.

 I do not know if any one remembers Enid Blyton’s “The Magic Faraway Tree” books. “The Magic Faraway Tree” is the biggest and the tallest tree in the world; right in the middle of the Enchanted Wood- and its very magic indeed!  It was called the Faraway tree  because its top is so far away, up into the clouds, and always sticks up into some queer magic land - a different one every week! Isn't that exciting?  There was the land of secrets: the land of do as you please; the land of dreams: the land of spells and the land of enchantments and many, many more. So this tree was able to take me to my castle and I could have a different adventure every time. If I was in the land of enchantments I could wave my magic wand and be Sleeping Beauty up in my castle awaiting my prince charming to come and wake me up with a kiss. Or Cinderella going to the ball in the royal castle and dancing with the prince. I could be Alice in Wonderland and playing croquet with the Queen of Hearts in the rose garden that surround the Castle.In the land of dreams I could dream I was the Fairy queen of my castle ruling wisely over my kingdom of fairies and goblins, pixies and elves. Being young is a wonderful time because you can have so many adventures without going anywhere.

    As I grew older my imagination started to wane and I though less and less of my castle in the bush. I would see from afar as before and think to myself, “There is my castle” but by then other important things were crowding my mind. Then we moved away up to Umina so I never passed it again so my Castle was forgotten altogether.

    A few years ago my husband and I happened to be in the Willoughby area when I suddenly thought of the castle in the bush and I said to Max “I wonder if Willis’s castle is still standing. It could be, let’s go have a look”. I could no longer see the castle from Edinburgh Rd because many houses and roads had been built since I had been there last. So, we hunted down many roads till we could see a break between the houses. There it was, still perched upon a headland but now surrounded by other houses as well as bush. If there are other houses there now must be a road to my castle so now I could go and see it close up. We got out the street map and found where we thought we had to go. We took a few wrong turns, and then finally I saw Willis St. Now that had to be where the castle should be.

  Sure enough after a long search there in front of me was my castle. There she was in all her glory just as I had pictured. All my childhood memories came flooding back and I was seeing for the first time what I longed to see all those years ago. Even though all the Mac Mansions were built around, Innisfallen Castle was still surrounded by bush not though not as much as before.

  I had at last been able to see my special place up close and personal, “My Castle in the Bush”