Dear listers , My sincere apologies for the virus unknowingly spread by me , i think i may have received it from an authentic looking email with attachment, went against past history and trusted instinct wih dire results, had to ditch every thing , but remembered to write by hand all my contacts from address book . i hope no one opened any virus email from me , if so please contact me . I am now virus free and have updated my Norton anti virus and will do so weekly . Kind regards, Brian Johnson (Johno) bjohnson3@vtown.com.au

I thought that members may be interested in some online galleries currently on the Herald Sun newspaper website showcasing some beautiful old photos of Melbourne buildings and schools and others with a request for further information. Perhaps you can help? http://www.heraldsun.com.au/opinion/editorials/gallery-fn4qercp-1225832969535?page=10 Cheers, Robynne

Is Sandy Yould still on this list? I have not heard form Sandy since before Christmas so hope she contacts me soon. Regards Marie Young - heartseas@bigpond.com Everything has it's beauty, but not everyone sees it Confucius

http://svycfiimps.ru.gg

Ah, what wonderful and dreadful memories that poem revives. While we think of the Dunny, please spare a thought for the poor men who had the job of emptying them. My Grandfather always called those men NIGHT MEN. When asked why, he said when he was a child, that was the time when the men had to do their job. Later, the poor fellows were permitted to work during daylight hours and my Grandmother was outraged. She could not understand why such a dreadful service should be performed in broad daylight. Another memory (and I swear this is true): One morning the Night Man came to perform his service, and my Grandmother was doing the family washing. This was the time when a line was lifted with the use of a clothes prop, and left with the prop in place until the washing dried. At the time the Night Man arrived, the line was down on the ground, out of use, and the fellow raced over it, and proceeded to do his duty inside the 'little house at the back'. In the meantime, my Grandmother lifted the line with the aid of the clothes prop, then went to gather a basked of clean washing to hang out. The poor Night Man did not see the raised clothes line, and with a full tin hoisted on his shoulder, and head down to watch the ground .......... he ran straight into it. He was saturated, from head to foot, with the contents of the tin. Fortunately, my Grandfather was home, and able to hose the poor fellow down. Apparently, my Grandfather could hardly aim the hose for laughing, while the Night Man swore and cursed worse than a trooper. The final indignity came, when my Grandfather, who was a very big, tall man, had to supply a set of clean clothes for the rather short Night Man to continue on his rounds. My Grandfather's trousers hung around him like a tent, and had to be puled almost to his armpits with a leather belt, and the sleeves had to be cut from the shirt to leave his arms free to hoist the tins without further accident. Jeannette.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunny http://www.dunnyrace.com.au/index.htm ( The runny dunny ) Cheers Ray N.Z. _________________________________________________________________ Want to be a Space Travel Agent? If it exists, you'll find it on SEEK http://clk.atdmt.com/NMN/go/157639089/direct/01/

Very many thanks for posting it. I thought it was great. It did bring back a lot of memories. My children (who are grown up with a family of their own) cannot understand how we put up with having to use something like that. Marie

Friend sent it to me and just thought I'd like to share it here on Memories Regards, Raymond. ----- Original Message ----- From: "The Warwicks" <thewarwicks@optusnet.com.au> To: <AUS-MEMORIES-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, January 28, 2010 8:19 PM Subject: [AUS-MEMORIES] The Aussie Dunny > The Aussie Dunny. > > Loved the poem - who wrote it please - it's brilliant! Brings back lots of > memories. > > Dorothy > > ------------------------------- > To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to > AUS-MEMORIES-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the > quotes in the subject and the body of the message -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- No virus found in this incoming message. Checked by AVG - www.avg.com Version: 9.0.733 / Virus Database: 271.1.1/2650 - Release Date: 01/28/10 06:36:00

The Aussie Dunny. Loved the poem - who wrote it please - it's brilliant! Brings back lots of memories. Dorothy

The Aussie Dunny They were funny looking buildings, that were once a way of life, If you couldn't sprint the distance, then you really were in strife. They were nailed, they were wired, but were mostly falling down, There was one in every yard, in every house, in every town. They were given many names, some were even funny, But to most of us, we knew them as the outhouse or the dunny. I've seen some of them all gussied up, with painted doors and all, But it really made no difference, they were just a port of call. Now my old man would take a bet, he'd lay an even pound, That you wouldn't make the dunny with them turkeys hangin' round. They had so many uses, these buildings out the back," You could even hide from mother, so you wouldn't get the strap. That's why we had good cricketers, never mind the bumps, We used the pathway for the wicket and the dunny door for stumps. Now my old man would sit for hours, the smell would rot your socks, He read the daily back to front in that good old thunderbox. And if by chance that nature called sometime through the night, You always sent the dog in first, for there was no flamin' light. And the dunny seemed to be the place where crawlies liked to hide, But never ever showed themselves until you sat inside. There was no such thing as Sorbent, no tissues there at all, Just squares of well read newspaper, a hangin' on the wall. If you had some friendly neighbours, as neighbours sometimes are, You could sit and chat to them, if you left the door ajar. When suddenly you got the urge, and down the track you fled, Then of course the magpies were there to peck you on your head. Then the time there was a wet, the rain it never stopped, If you had an urgent call, you ran between the drops. The dunny man came once a week, to these buildings out the back, And he would leave an extra can, if you left for him a zac. For those of you who've no idea what I mean by a zac, Then you're too young to have ever had, a dunny out the back. For it seems today they call them the bathroom, or the loo, If you've never had one out the back, then I feel sorry for you. For it used to be a way of life, to race along the track, To answer natures call, at these buildings out the back.

Excellent , thanks , Ray. Ray New Zealand PS 'Memories are Made of This ' Sung by Dean Martin ? [AUS-MEMORIES] Think Members will Enjoy this?????‏ From: aus-memories-bounces@rootsweb.com on behalf of Raymond Henderson (Raymond.henderson3@three.com.au) Sent: Tuesday, 22 September 2009 9:13:37 p.m. To: AUS-MEMORIES@rootsweb.com _________________________________________________________________ Feeling the financial pinch? Check on MSN NZ Money for a hand http://money.msn.co.nz

Please enjoy? Someone asked the other day, 'What was your favourite fast food when you were growing up?' 'We didn't have fast food when I was growing up,' I informed him. 'All the food was slow.' 'C'mon, seriously. Where did you eat?' 'It was a place called 'at home,'' I explained. ! 'Mum cooked every day and when Dad got home from work, we sat down together at the dining room table, and if I didn't like what she put on my plate I was allowed to sit there until I did like it.' By this time, the kid was laughing so hard I was afraid he was going to suffer serious internal damage, so I didn't tell him the part about how I had to have permission to leave the table. But here are some other things I would have told him about my childhood if I figured his system could have handled it : Some parents NEVER owned their own house, wore Levis , set foot on a golf course, travelled out of the country or had a credit card. My parents never drove me to school. I had a bicycle that weighed probably 50 pounds, and only had one speed, (slow). We didn't have a television in our house until I was 19. It was, of course, black and white, and the station went off the air at midnight, after playing the national anthem and a poem about God; it came back on the air at about 6 a.m. and there was usually a locally produced news and farm show on, featuring local people..... I never had a telephone in my room.The only phone was on a party line. Before you could dial, you had to listen and make sure some people you didn't know weren't already using the line. Pizzas were not delivered to our home... But milk was. All newspapers were delivered by boys and all boys delivered newspapers --my brother delivered a newspaper, six days a week. He had to get up at 6 A.M. every morning. Movie stars kissed with their mouths shut. At least, they did in the movies. There were no movie ratings because all movies were responsibly produced for everyone to enjoy viewing, without profanity or violence or most anything offensive. If you grew up in a generation before there was fast food, you may want to share some of these memories with your children or grandchildren. Just don't blame me if they bust a gut laughing. Growing up isn't what it used to be, is it? MEMORIES from a friend : My Dad is cleaning out my grandmother's house (she died in December) and he brought me an old Royal Crown Cola bottle. In the bottle top was a stopper with a bunch of holes in it.. I knew immediately what it was, but my daughter had no idea. She thought they had tried to make it a salt shaker or something. I knew it as the bottle that sat on the end of the ironing board to 'sprinkle' clothes with because we didn't have steam irons. Man, I am old. How many do you remember? Head lights dimmer switches on the floor. Ignition switches on the dashboard. Pant leg clips for bicycles without chain guards. Soldering irons you heat on a gas burner. Using hand signals for cars without turn signals. Older Than Dirt Quiz : Count all the ones that you remember not the ones you were told about. Ratings at the bottom. 1.Candy cigarettes 2.Coffee shops with tableside juke boxes 3.Home milk delivery in glass bottles 4. Party lines on the telephone 5.Newsreels before the movie 6.TV test patterns that came on at night after the last show and were there until TV shows started again in the morning. (there were only 3 channels [if you were fortunate]) 7.Peashooters 8. Howdy Doody 9. 45 RPM records 10.Hi-fi's 11. Metal ice trays with lever 12. Blue flashbulb 13.Cork popguns 14. Studebakers 15. Wash tub wringers If you remembered 0-3 = You're still young If you remembered 3-6 = You are getting older If you remembered 7-10 = Don't tell your age, If you remembered 11-15 =You're older than dirt! I might be older than dirt but those memories are some of the best parts of my life. Regards, Ray List Admin.

My Grandfather said it means rain coming ... and he was never wrong.

I was always told it meant rain coming. Kim ----- Original Message ----- From: "heartseas" <heartseas@bigpond.com> To: aus-memories@rootsweb.com Sent: Thursday, 9 July, 2009 11:05:15 AM (GMT+1000) Auto-Detected Subject: [AUS-MEMORIES] Hello list Does anyone remember what it means when one sees a ring around the moon? Regards Marie ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to AUS-MEMORIES-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

Does anyone remember what it means when one sees a ring around the moon? Regards Marie

Family history search has led me to this topic, above. My person of interest , Alexander McGilvray , enlisted in the Australian Army : Service Record Name : McGilvray , Alexander Service Number : N77465 Date of Birth : 8 Apr 1890 Place of Birth : Murwillumbah , QLD ( Should be NSW ? ) Date of Enlistment : 1 Aug 1940 Locality on Enlistment : Bondi , NSW Place of Enlistment : Paddington , NSW Next of Kin : McGilvray , Marie Date of Discharge : 18 Mar 1944 Rank : Private Posting at Discharge : 16 Garrison Battalion I was intrigued to note that Alexander McGilvray was aged 50 years at his date of enlistment. I wonder if any Mailing List Subscriber has memories of this wartime period , particularly in regard to the 16th Garrison Battalion ? Incidentally , I have established that Alexander McGilvray died in 1969 ( NSW Regn. No. 1186 / 1969 ) I can find no record of the death of his wife and next-of-kin , Marie McGilvray I understand that the couple had no children , so there may be nobody left to share these wartime memories... Ray New Zealand _________________________________________________________________ Brrr... its getting cold out there Find someone to snuggle up with http://a.ninemsn.com.au/b.aspx?URL=http%3A%2F%2Fdating%2Enz%2Emsn%2Ecom%2Fchannel%2Findex%2Easpx%3Ftrackingid%3D1048628&_t=773568480&_r=nzWINDOWSliveMAILemailTAGLINES&_m=EXT

Sandra......Never thought I would ever hear anyone sing/mention that song again in this day and age, however, my mother, who learnt it from her mother, used to sing it all the time it seemed around the house. I seem to remember a few differences in some lines of the words........But then I suppose that happens with a lot of songs that get sung so many times. Regards. Karan in expat Melbournite in Oklahoma. -----Original Message----- From: aus-memories-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:aus-memories-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Sandra Douglas Sent: Friday, February 06, 2009 6:46 AM To: AUS-MEMORIES-L@rootsweb.com Subject: [AUS-MEMORIES] stay in your own back yard STAY IN YOUR OWN BACKYARD Lilac trees are blooming in the garden by the gate, Mammy's waiting at the kitchen door. Poor little piccaninny comin' home so late. ( SLEEPY little piccaninny comin' home so late,) Cryin' 'cos he's little heart was sore. All the boys and girls at school With skin so snowy white, None of them would ever with him play, So Mammy on her lap takes the weeping little chap And says in her own sweet way. ( And CROONED in her own KIND way.) Now stay inside of your high board fence An' honey don' yo' weep so hard What do yo' suppose they're goin' to do With a little racoon like you ? (TO A BLACK LITTLE COON LIKE YOU So stay inside of your high board fence ( SO STAY ON YOUR SIDE OF YOUR HIGHBOARD FENCE No matter what dem white chile's do ( AND HONEY DON'T YOU CRY SO HARD. Run away and play just as much as you may but (GO OUT AND PLAY AS MUCH AS YOU WISH Stay in your own back yard. (BUT STAY IN YOUR OWN BACKYARD. Karan : There was a third verse I think , I think there were 1 or 2 more lines in the 3rd verse but I cant recall them at this time: Then one day that face, it was gone for evermore, Such a lonely winsome little coon, God had called that dusky little elf, So Mammy at the door, Sits and rocks as before, But croons to her own dark self, Repeat chorus. I think these are the right words my grandmother used to sing to me. Sandra D ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to AUS-MEMORIES-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

Wonderful to see the words again... my mother also used to sing this one to me.... Thanks for rekindling the memory, Laura Perth West Australia -----Original Message----- From: aus-memories-bounces@rootsweb.com [mailto:aus-memories-bounces@rootsweb.com] On Behalf Of Sandra Douglas Sent: Friday, 6 February 2009 8:46 PM To: AUS-MEMORIES-L@rootsweb.com Subject: [AUS-MEMORIES] stay in your own back yard STAY IN YOUR OWN BACKYARD Lilac trees are blooming in the garden by the gate, Mammy's waiting at the kitchen door. Poor little piccaninny comin' home so late. Cryin' 'cos he's little heart was sore. All the boys and girls at school With skin so snowy white, None of them would ever with him play, So Mammy on her lap takes the weeping little chap And says in her own sweet way. Now stay inside of your high board fence An' honey don' yo' weep so hard What do yo' suppose they're goin' to do With a little racoon like you ? So stay inside of your high board fence No matter what dem white chile's do Run away and play just as much as you may but Stay in your own back yard. I think these are the right words my grandmother used to sing to me. Sandra D ------------------------------- To unsubscribe from the list, please send an email to AUS-MEMORIES-request@rootsweb.com with the word 'unsubscribe' without the quotes in the subject and the body of the message

STAY IN YOUR OWN BACKYARD Lilac trees are blooming in the garden by the gate, Mammy's waiting at the kitchen door. Poor little piccaninny comin' home so late. Cryin' 'cos he's little heart was sore. All the boys and girls at school With skin so snowy white, None of them would ever with him play, So Mammy on her lap takes the weeping little chap And says in her own sweet way. Now stay inside of your high board fence An' honey don' yo' weep so hard What do yo' suppose they're goin' to do With a little racoon like you ? So stay inside of your high board fence No matter what dem white chile's do Run away and play just as much as you may but Stay in your own back yard. I think these are the right words my grandmother used to sing to me. Sandra D

Good evening Listers, I have made enquires about this chappie by the name of "Black Charlie" some years ago on this List, however I am hoping that some new members maybe able to have some information that can assist me. My mother-in-law is 97 years of age this year, and still has a very sharp memory. She can remember so much from her past, she can name many of her school friends, who they married and even their children's names. It is unbelievable. Nan was born in 1912 and grew up in Annandale, an inner city suburb of Sydney. My husband also was born and grew up in Annandale. This Annandale is a very historical suburb of Sydney, taking it's name from the estate of Major George Johnston or the First Fleet, who owned virtually all the land, where the borders of the suburb of Annandale are today. So now we come to "Black Charlie" (his full name was Charlie Hobart). He was full blood aborigine and was the bottle-o-man. On his two wheel cart pulled by his old faithfull horse, he drove up and down the streets of Annandale, Leichardt, Lilyfield and surrounding suburbs, around once a month to buy un-re-funderable bottles, which he sold to be recycled. As "Black Charlie" entered a street the children would hear his call, and they would come out of their homes and follow behind his cart. skipping and jumping and calling out with him "..throw out your bottles, any bottles...". The adults would also rush out with the shovels, just in case Old Charlie's horse would hear the call of nature and drop some very desirable deposits on the road, much was needed for their veggie gardens. My husband also can remember "Black Charlie" as he was growing up, but now he was a much older man. He says that he always thought he looked like Nat "King" Cole. We also have to remember with "Black Charlie" and his horse and cart, the props for sale man, the rabbito man, the Jam and Butter man, the Baker, the Horehound Ginger Beer man, the Shelley's Soft Drink man, the knife sharpener man, the ice cream man and the milk man. No wonder you did not need super markets back in those days, everything was brought to you. Black Charlie (Hobart) had a daughter Rose Hobart, who Nan can remember her on the cart with her father, helping him collect the bottles and stake into the cart. Rose in 1925 married Charles Rowe a white man. The marriage was registered at Petersham. Now here is what I am hoping SKS can help me with. Who was Charlie Hobart? When was he born? Who did he marry? When was Rose born and where? Is this Rose's death?:- 26930/1944 ROWE ROSE 36 YRS PARRAMATTA Could this be Rose's birth? 39301/1908 HERBERT, ROSE V Father CHARLES Mother AMELIA M PATERSON Hobart and Herbert are close. I do hope someone on the List can shed a little more light on our mysterious "Black Charlie" and littel tit bit would be very much appreciated. Thank you. Regards, Janice Belrose