SCHOOL CONCERTS

Every year our school performed a concert.

The first one I remember is when I was in 2nd Class. I was the Fairy of the Pocket. There were lots of little girls dancing around in tutus - not sure of the story but one of the little fairies got sick and called in the Fairy of the Pocket to perform her magic cure.

I remember giving instructions about where everyone had to stand and requesting that they bring in a jug of milk and a bowl of apples.

We had been rehearsing this little play for some weeks and certainly knew all the moves and words and were all dressed in our pretty little dresses and ready for a perfect performance.

Everything was pretty much going to plan and then two little fairies brought out the jug of milk and the bowl of apples. We had always rehearsed with an empty jug and bowl but on the night the jug was full of milk and the bowl was full of apples. I can remember being completely thrown and started to giggle. The nun backstage was becoming really annoyed but each time I tried to say my lines and rotate around the jug and bowl to perform the magic act with my magic wand, the giggles continued. This was also contagious so that, to get on with the rest of the concert the curtain eventually came down and we were ushered off the stage.

The term 'it'll be right on the night' was not coined from this performance.

I don't remember getting into trouble or being in any way admonished but some parents and my mum and dad spoke about this for many years when talking about the convent concerts and it seemed as though it was quite a memorable hit.

NOW FOR THE WORST

Went to see a program today which I rate as the worst one I have ever seen. Would rather sit through 'Hairspray' or 'Train Spotting'. It was called The Water Puppet Theatre. Don't even want to talk about how bad it was.

Unfortunately I was in the middle of a row where it was impossible to move. The seats were really small with very little room for legs. I would have needed to move five people from their seats and into the aisle to enable an exit. I was ready to go after a few minutes and after half and hour I wished I had taken the move.

Tony told me not to get a ticket for him. Smart bastard! I don't think he would have cared how many people he had to move to force his exit.

TOPPING THE TOPS

Until 18 December 2009 my top performances were:

The Hunchback of Notre Dame - Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow
Swan Lake - Mariinski Theatre in St Petersberg

Both of these were organised by Tony.

THEN, by sheer chance, I organised tickets for a concert at the Hanoi Opera House. The only reason I purchased tickets to this was because the opera had finished the night before and there was nothing else of interest coming up during my visit.

It was called the Yamaha Jazz Christmas Night but was an opportunity to see the Opera House and have a little light entertainment.

How wrong can one be!

We walked in, received our free program, took our seats within one minute of the orchestra appearing on stage, and settled in for what looked like a surprisingly good performance, as the 85 musicians on stage were The Vietnam National Symphony Orchestra. The conductor, Tetsuji Honna, was world famous so the evening became quite exciting at this point.

The program commenced with some light pieces by composer, Leroy Anderson, followed by Gershwin's American in Paris and was enthusiastically received by the audience.

We were then treated to some Duke Ellington jazz by an excellent group which included a pianist by the name of Yamashita. He is the most talented pianist I have ever seen and to be so close was perfect. Our seats did not allow us to see his hands so Tony walked around to the other side, whilst I stayed and enjoyed watching his facial expressions of total involvement in the music.

Loved it.

The highlight of the night was his rendition of Rhapsody in Blue. It was so good that we decided to sneak into the sold-out Saturday night second half to watch it again. This was possible because there were columns where we could stand and not be in anyone's way but still with an excellent view of the stage. As luck had it there were two box seats vacant which rendered a great view of the entire orchestra.

Amazing hardly described this experience.

CONCERT SUCCESS with the Old Bags

The best part about this type of concert is the audience. They are so appreciative of anyone prepared to perform.

The acts ranged from really well acted and delivered, to the very poor but enthusiastically rehearsed. One particular act had been rehearsed for a couple of months with great emphasis on the costumes and props, but the actual performance was pretty slap-stick. Everyone cheered and clapped anyway.

It was a fun afternoon and very enjoyable.

Unlike previous years when most of the girls didn't want to be involved with any kind of performing, I now have a keen and co-operative little group who are quite keen to help and participate.

THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY

I absolutely hate items with miming. Even if they are not good singers, it is still better to do things live. I can understand Britney, as she had a lot to do, but these girls have been rehearsing for about six weeks and are preparing an act which will last for about 3 minutes.

They told me a couple of months ago that they would have an act for the concert. I was really happy as I usually have to organise the items myself. They told me that they had already started rehearsals. So I let them be, knowing that a lot of work and effort was being exhausted.

I always check the acts and timing before the event and sat in on one of their rehearsals. I left shortly after giving them much praise for their support. In reality I couldn't get out of there quickly enough and as I went downstairs I didn't know whether to laugh or cry so I did a little of each.

They are good to do it.
The miming is bad.
The content is ugly.

It will, however, go off pretty well as they are well-liked and popular girls and will be given great credit for their energy. So, I have to let them on stage.

To rest my case and defend my attitude I will give you a little hint as to why I used the above title.

They are dancing with canes and top hats - a good concept - but they are miming to Al Jolson singing Mammy!!! The sync is to be seen to be believed. A couple of lady bowlers dressed to the nines and when they open their mouths out comes the deep voice of Al Jolson. AND they are not doing it as a comedy and are quite excited about how well it is going.

RAFFLE REMINDER

I remember as a kid we had an annual fete to raise money for the school/nuns, whatever.

I used to ride around on my bike selling raffle tickets. I knew most of the people in my neighbourhood and also knew how much time would be spent in each house as some of the oldies would love a chat and would love to get the goods on the people around them. Mostly this involved about 10 questions, which I would invariably answer and I guess I didn't always let the truth interfere with a good story. So, I was mostly welcome and would nearly always close a sale. Sometimes I would have to get their milk or paper or post a letter before the ticket was purchased but that was a part of the deal understood by both parties.

Even though I enjoyed doing this, we were told that doing good deeds would get a soul out of pergatory, which was a place where souls, who were not quite bad enough for hell and not quite good enough for heaven, were kept until their time was spent or someone got them out through a good deed.

Indulgences were a regular incentive for us as we were encouraged to do these good deeds so that these suffering souls would be able to get out of this darkness and go to heaven. I hoped when I went there that there would still be lots of children around to get me out, as I now knew for certain that I wasn't going straight to heaven..

Anyway, one year the prize was a trailer load full of Christmas goodies donated by various stores in town. I had sold many tickets and hoped that one of my customers would win it and maybe give me something. I remember looking at this trailer for the few weeks before the fete and thinking how wonderful it will be for some family to win it.

Well the fete was nearly over and one of my friends told me that my mother had won the trailer. I was so excited and got on my bike and rode home as fast as I could. Throwing my bike on the lawn I raced around the yard looking for the trailer and was disappointed that it had not been delivered yet. I waited on the footpath so I could see it arriving but after what seemed like an hour, I went inside to ask Mum when it was coming. She said "it's not coming here : I donated it to the nuns".

I think I have hated the nuns ever since that day.

WON'T BE THE SAME

Was quite excited to be going to Bomaderry bowling today with my new bag in tow and sure that this would create lots of interest and amazement that I would have some new trendy gear.

Was picked up at home by my fellow players and when arriving at our venue gave a demonstration in the car park of my new equipment. The girls were very impressed and I was excited to be entering the club to strut my stuff in front of our competitors, hoping that maybe the distraction would put them off their game.

However, on entering the club my expectations were dashed. We had come on the wrong day - the game is tomorrow!

We are still going to come back and play tomorrow but it will have a 'GroundHog' feel about it then.

I guess the only good thing is that the game is tomorrow and wasn't yesterday.

DILEMMA

Was wondering whether to change the title of my blog because, as of yesterday, the old bag has a new bag.

A very large box arrived at home addressed to Mrs C (could be Cheesel or Cheryl, two of the many names which refer to me) Murrell-Orgill. On opening this package, with great difficulty due to the extensive tape used for security, I found the most beautiful bowls bag inside. There was no note to indicate the sender except a company name and a SA box number listed as the sender.

At first I thought I must have won a raffle, then discounted that because I would never enter a competition under that name.

On closer examination of the box, I noticed a 'MADE IN VIETNAM' on the side.

I thought my search for the donor had come to an end and rang Tones to thank him only to discover that this magnificent gift had come from Ben.

Wow! This was a very expensive gift for the little help I had given to him re tax stuff.

I rang and thanked him profusely and said that he had accrued 10 years of free advice.

There was a little pause then he mentioned that I would not be needed in future as he was being looked after by another.

Was this, then, a redundancy package? I think so but I don't care as it is the nicest bag in the whole of the Illawarra and maybe even NSW.

So - Old Bag Bowling is now an Old Bag Bowling with a New Bag. I like it!

UNCO DANCING

I have been organising a concert for our Christmas Party.

One of the items consists of four bowlers in dressing gowns, slippers and night caps hobbling in to the tune of Baby Elephant Walk. They each have two walking sticks and have an occasional leg kick and slow rotations. This part of the rehearsal is going quite well.

Half way through this, the music changes to the Charleston, where they fling off their attire to reveal short dresses with frills and 1920's headbands. The costumes will look good but teaching the steps to the Charleston has been a massive challenge with four fit bowlers but unco dancers.

The music then changes back to Elephant Walk and they revert to their original outfits and walking sticks to exit.

We have seven items lined up to rehearse. Lots of giggles, lots of fun and always an appreciative audience of our lady bowlers. Nerves don't come in to it as they know their stuff-ups are still applauded.

Beryl did not audition as, by 2pm in the afternoon, after a game of bowls, lunch and her medicine, she will need to rest and just watch. After the concert we have some music and most of the old bags, this always includes Beryl, get up and dance as by this time they have also had their medicine and are feeling pretty energetic.

FORGOTTEN GENERATION

Kevin Rudd, on Monday 16th, apologised to more than half a million Australians who suffered physically and emotionally at the hands of 'carers' in institutions around Australia from the 1920's.

My friend, Peter O'Donnell, grew up in St John's Boys' Orphanage, Goulburn, in the 1940's and 1950's. The orphanage was run by nuns with the occasional priest called to administer severe punishments.

Some of the punishments Peter remembers having nightmares over include:

One night a young boy in his dormitory was crying because he had stomach cramps and an ear ache. Sister Gabriel knelt beside his bed and told him that if he didn't stop crying she would whack him in the ear. He didn't stop and she continued to hit. This ruptured his eardrum and he later died in hospital. This was not the only death during his time there but these children just disappeared and were not spoken of again.

The cane. Hands were placed on the desk, face down, whilst 'six of the best' were administered.

Oiled strap. This leather strap was soaked in oil before punishment to give it an extra impact and was given in front of the entire orphanage, which at any time could be up to 100 kids aged from 2-16.

Corn rubbing. This punishment involved crawling under the nun's desk to massage her feet for anything up to an hour at a time. Peter was continually called for this punishment, even if he wasn't talking in class or doing anything wrong. He remembers being exhausted but too frightened to ask whether he could stop as it was, after all, better than the cane. He laughingly bragged about being the best at this activity because he was called up more often than any of the others.

One night, at 3am, four of them escaped and headed into Goulburn with their little sacks. They were heading for the bush. Unfortunately they were noticed by a cop and caught by 5 am. Punishment was not given until 2 weeks later and in those two weeks they waited, terrified, knowing that something was planned. Those 2 weeks of waiting were worse than the actual punishment which was eventually dealt with the oiled strap on legs and arms in front of the frightened assembly.

Food. He remembers they looked forward to the days when the cook made the soup. They waited outside the door for the bones to be thrown out. They would grab these, break them in half and eat the marrow. They also remember getting very sick from eating orange berries - peel and all, as they were so hungry.

Medical. Each Sunday they were lined up for their dose of Epson Salts. If anyone was caught talking they were given their dose then sent back to the end of the line and given another dose. This second dose was the cause of many cramps and was to be avoided at all costs. Even though they were very careful to be on their best behaviour, there was always a couple sent back - they thought this was for the amusement of the administrators.

Sexual Abuse? Peter's has no memory of sexual abuse happening. The only odd thing he remembers was that some of the older boys would come around after midnight with torches and pull off the bed clothes of some of the boys. He always pretended to be asleep so that they wouldn't come near him. He does remember having his bed clothes pull away and the torch shone on his face, but that was all that happened to him.


There are over half a million of these stories around Australia including some 10,000 British children send here during World War II. These children were told they were orphans only to find out in their 40's and 50's that it had been a lie and they were able to trace their relatives.

Included in the apologies on Monday was one from the Melbourne University which admitted that they used the children in these institutions as guinea pigs in the testing of trial medicines to cure childhood complaints such as whooping cough etc.

BEST ROUND IN 2009

For reasons beyond the comprehension of golfers, a good round appears out of the blue after a series of very poor efforts.

This is what happened today. No practice swings in the backyard during the week, no expectation of hitting the ball down the centre and putting well - just going out for a pleasant little walk and talk with the girls. THEN down the middle, hitting greens, putting well (except on the 7th when I thought I had too much club so decided to hit the ball softly - and I did, straight into the dam in front of the green) and suddenly the game became very interesting and much more fun that the recent rounds of very ordinary scoring.

42 points and maybe won the day. And I thought I didn't care ......

MILKING IT FOR ALL IT WAS WORTH

When the government introduced free milk for students at recess we found an increase in the number of kids being kept in. Milk was not allowed for the naughty ones but to avoid wasting this 'gift' the house nun (a non-teaching caretaker of the convent) would collect the 'left-overs' and by lunchtime we had some delicious milk iceblocks for sale at 2d each.

These were very popular and we would wait at the convent gate in anticipation. We were never disappointed as there was always plenty for sale.

MASS OF GIGGLES

Maureen was in my kindy class. We were the same age and spent many weekends and holidays together, either on their farm or at our home.

Our parents were married a few days apart in the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Cootamundra: her parents on the 4th of May 1940 and mine on the 10th. Our mums had even shared some of the wedding fineries: shoes, gloves etc.

Once we had started going to school, we were forced to sit with the nuns during Sunday Mass.

Our church had four main areas: the central two sections were for the general congregation, the left-hand side was for the nuns and the right-hand side for the brothers.

When it came time for Holy Communion, we headed for the altar in our rows. Up we'd go, receive the host and slowly march back to our seats.

Maureen's father always sat on the aisle a few seats back in the congregation section next to ours. I knew he would be checking on us and I also knew to avoid looking at him on my way back to my seat. He would always have a comical expression on his face and one glance would make me start smiling. We weren't allowed to smile in church. It was serious business for kids and nuns.

I never made it back to my seat without glancing at him. The temptation was too great for a 7 year old and when I succumbed I would immediately start smiling. Sometimes the smile started forming in anticipation. I found it impossible to control the giggle and it must have looked like that conspicuous struggle on the face of a child who is trying not to laugh. By the time I got back to my seat the smile had turned into a muffled but obvious giggle.

The nuns were constantly watching us in Mass for any sign of trouble and the consequences of my church giggles were clear. I would be called out to the front of the school assembly on Monday morning and berated heavily in front of the school. Then I would receive whatever punishment was deemed suitable on the day. Sometimes it was the cane (one hit, on one hand in infant school but this was increased once we arrived in third class when it could be anything from 1-6 on both hands because, after all, we were 8 by then) but mostly the discipline was being kept in during recess. During recess, at my desk, staring out from the unsupervised classroom and trying to convince passers by to pass me a bottle of milk through the window.

We would never have told our parents about this: it never occurred to us. In retrospect, if Maureen's father had known the consequences I faced from this he would never have done it.

By the time we got to Sunday, my memories of the previous Monday's punishment had long faded and I would find myself back in the communion queue planning how, this time, I was going to successfully avoid looking up at that fateful seat in the congregation.

Funnily enough, my continued punishments seemed to be enough of a deterrent to Maureen and her behaviour in Mass (or in class) never found her in trouble. This was not the same for me.

I don't ever remember walking to school on Monday without knowing that the morning assembly was going to have something in store for me.

BOWLING with BERYL

She is 86! Not one of the chosen ones to play in a team, but I enjoy playing with her as her love of the game is displayed on her face.

We are playing club-selected triples. B is the lead.

Whatever has happened during the end is mostly missed by B as she always asks whether we are up or down as we cross over. If down, her expression is tense. If up, the smile warms the heart.

When it is my turn to play she gets quite excited, clapping and happy, if the shot looks good but her body language says it all if my shot is obviously not going to feature in the finish. Hands flap towards the ground, head shakes and then droops.

The green on the day was pretty fast and B's normal shot is bum up and chuck. This causes, 97% of the time, the bowl to end up in the ditch or out of bounds and out of play. Still she soldiered on for 18 ends when we lost 18/13.

Her disappointment, however, did not last long and was over by the time we all shook hands and went into the clubhouse for her 'medicine', which is a glass of white wine. The medicine sometimes needs to be administered BEFORE the game.

B also told me that she takes a carafe of wine to bed which gives her a very good night's sleep.

A few years ago I gave her a Christmas Card and wrote 'I smile each time I see you'. She told me later that she had thrown out the other cards but was keeping mine to put up each year.

In her youth she was a dancer at the Tivoli theatre in Sydney and can still put her leg up a pole - she just has trouble keeping her bowl out of the ditch.

NICK KNACK, PATTY WHACK

So, it looks like I'm off and running.

I feel that I must make my first 'memory' a nun one.

KINDERGARTEN - first day! Cannot remember how we got into this large kindy room - probably lined up and marched in, which was how it was normally done - twenty or so little 5 year olds sitting silently in a circle on tiny chairs.

Nun needed to go out of the room and told us not to talk while she was away but if anyone did, we were to tell her when she came back.

Well, of course, some of us had a little whisper and, some took the instruction pretty seriously and, although they didn't 'talk', they used their index finger knuckle to point at the whisperers whilst letting out a 'mmmmmm' sound. This was terrifying, even though the accusers were only five. I remember sitting next to Caroline. Cannot remember whether she pointed but I didn't and neither did Maureen.

Nun comes back and asked the class whether anyone had spoken whilst she was away. I remember hoping that the 'pointers' would have enough examples without indicating me. That didn't happen! Don't remember who dobbed me in but I was one of about six to get the smack. (This is the only time I remember a nun using her hand to smack as all other smacks were administered with a cane). It was 'hold out your hand' and then the smack. I don't remember whether it hurt but I remember concentrating on a thought: don't cry, don't cry. I managed not to cry and was happy about that. (Sounds a little like Pollyanna).

This event made me think: watch your step, little girl. watch your back, little girl!

NUN'S HABITS