5th October 1922 – 19th March 2021
I have been blessed with a long life and have witnessed many changes during my 95 years.These are the reflections of my life, Doris Wheeler, written on the 5th November, 2017.
Some of these early notes have been taken from the book ‘A Life Together’ which I wrote out of love and respect for my parents.
My parents were English and after WW1 were fortunate to settle into the loving and close-knit community of New Mexico, Manilla, where they raised their family of 4 children. The youngest member of the family was Les, and he was such a surprise to Trev, self and Beryl that he could have been found under a cabbage leaf for all we knew. At least we got to choose his name: Lesley Horace Jack! It was the age of innocence and we really believed everything we were told, even the cautionary tale of the little goblins that would pull us into the dam if we went near, and that would be that!
My parents had many friends; Faulk’s, Bryans, Heywoods and Maunders were the main ones. Mrs Faulks became our Grandma and Mr and Mrs Heywood our Uncle and Aunty, so we were by no means deprived in our early years.
Our home was old with no mod cons. The kitchen housed a fairly large old table, chairs, fuel stove with its embossed ‘lighthouse’ insignia, an old type dresser and a wireless.
A mantelpiece, often covered with oil-based baize, was above the stove. On this sat ‘Griffith Tea’ canisters and an old fashioned clock with a peacock on its glass front.
The kitchen was the hub of the family. Memories bring back the sight of an old kitchen table covered with linoleum. It was on this table that my Dad designed and cut out dresses for us girls and mum used an old Singer treadle machine to put them together. Dad was the family’s barber and when very young, we sported ‘basin’ cuts.
Washing up was an antiquated process. A large aluminium dish was used to wash the dishes etc. The water was heated in a kettle or fountain on the old fuel stove and the cold water carted from the rainwater tank outside. When all was done, the dish was carried to the garden and the water thrown on parched plants. The dish was then returned to its place on the kitchen table and only removed at meal times. The laundry was open to the elements on the hot western side. It had a dirt floor, cement tubs and an old fuel copper.
The copper had to be filled by hand and stoked with wood to bring the clothes to boiling point. The clothes were then transferred from copper to tubs with a well-worn stick. One had to be aware of the scalding water. It’s a wonder there were no burnt little people. The plumbing was non-existent, the water drained from the tubs on to the ground. Mum would be so tired after a day’s washing that the water would often be left in the tubs. When next wash day came round, there would be this thick, soapy, dirty sludge to remove. Monday was wash day and it was the most uninspiring day of the week. Between one of the tanks and the laundry was placed the separator. Separating was a task for the children.
Sometimes the old separator would really ‘hum,’ when the handle was turned very quickly. It was a delightful sight to see the rich cream trickle slowly and the milk pour out in a steady constant stream. The children certainly had adequate calcium in those days. But what a chore to wash the separator! It was an onerous task to dismantle this piece of equipment and set out the pieces to dry and then reassemble.
The toilet was situated outside the yard fence, some distance from the house, and placed strategically near the wood heap so that an armful of wood could be collected on the way back to the house.
Dad was a natural storyteller and even had the attentive ears of whoever happened to be working on the farm. At one time the help was a young English lad but memory of details fail me, but I do recall that he slept in what was called the blacksmith’s shop. Far cry from the rules and regulations of today! The lad became one of the family. Apart from the tales that our father dramatically told us which incidentally always held a moral , he loved to recall past events in his life, one being the sinking of the Titanic 1912.
When a babe, our mode of transport was the horse and sulky, but when my sister came into the world the family upgraded to a Willy’s car which had running boards and celluloid side curtains…these were attached by studs which meant they could be taken off in fine weather. The tyres had to be encased in chains in very wet conditions.
Some of my fondest memories are of a small New Mexico Church where we met each Sunday afternoon for Sunday School and a service. When the congregation came out of church, the men gathered under the shade of the pepper trees, and solved the problems of the world. The women would gather round the church and cars and no doubt discuss family matters while the children played. Jack Heywood always brought a canvas waterbag, a large one at that. Unfortunately the church was burnt down but the memories are embedded in the recesses of my mind.
Early education sister and self was correspondence, taught by a governess, and then later attended New Mexico School with my siblings. It was on the Boggabri Rd about 6 miles from our farm “Clarendon”. It was one teacher, one room school and pupils sat on two rows of long benches in front of equally long desks. Several inkwells, which had to be filled regularly by responsible children, were in the desks. Before the pen and ink, slates were used and some of these were still at the school. At the end of 6th class, children had to pass a qualifying exam, which was set was the Department of Education. There were Arbour, Wattle and Empire Days which were celebrated. Girls played hopscotch, tips and chasies and the boys played marbles, cricket and footy. Our means of transport was the horse and sulky, the horse had to be unharnessed daily, tied under the pepper tress and given a nosebag of chaff.
Later I attended Manilla Secondary for 3 years, then Inverell High for 12 months where I boarded with the Methodist minister and his family, and completed 4th form. At this time my family needed me at home, so I decided to put myself through the final year for the Leaving Certificate. This was a great achievement as there were no courses to be had in those days, and it enabled me to receive a scholarship and graduate as a teacher from Armidale Teacher’s College.
I remember, too, my mother shedding tears when King George V died. This death was soon followed by the short reign of the Prince of Wales, until his abdication because of his love for Mrs Simpson. Next came the coronation of his brother, King George. Another time I recall Mum being upset was when WW2 was announced. She shook uncontrollably, such was her distress at facing another world war.
This part of my life was lived through the depression but were never aware of the hardships the country was going through nor even thought about the odd swaggies passing through. It was just how it was. A happy childhood.
That brings me to a time when life altered considerably as the Stanley kids followed their dreams. It was my good fortune that I chose a career that I really loved, teaching. A teaching career saw me at various schools, Westdale, Boggabri, Armidale Dem School, Inverell and finally Manilla. I loved teaching and loved the children. It has always been very heart warming to hear of the successes of pupils whom I have taught. Every child has potential.
John and I had a long and successful marriage. Seas had been rough at times but we survived the waves for 65 years. It all began with friendship from an early age, and we married in 1950. During the year of 1953 John (who was foreman at Clifton’s Garage) and I branched out and took on the franchise and lease of Woods Garage, which at that time, was on the other side of the street. There
were many round table conferences, one friend advised that we wouldn’t know if we were Arthur or Martha such was the challenge ahead. When the lease was about to expire, we looked around for a more suitable site. At this time Adie’s Shop came on the market and we purchased and developed this building to make it suitable for a service station and workshop. A successful business was built up over time, with John selling Chamberlain tractors and Austin cars.
During this time of our lives, John, Robert and Marg were born and grew up in homes in Court and Strafford Streets. They also enjoyed many happy times on “Clarendon” just as I had done when I was a child. John and I returned to our love for rural life in the 1970’s with the purchase of our property “Cullane”. The views of “the Bluff” from the house site reminded me of my childhood and it felt like home. Our son John was a special part of this journey and we were devastated when we lost him in 2002. We can thank him for taking such interest in the plans for the house, while he was studying at university. He planted the first of many trees, a lemon scented gum, in our so called yard. That tiny sapling is now a huge, beautiful tree. A passionate environmentalist, John developed a tree planting program which will leave a legacy for future generations.
Both John and I are very proud of Robert and Marg and their families, for being who they are and their achievements in life. They have been with us on our journey, have enriched our lives, and have been a great support to us.
Due to the encouragement of my family, I have embraced the technology of the 21st Century in as much as I am able. The publication of the book ‘A Life Together’ was a highlight for me, and led to me then taking an greater interest in local history, typing notes from old newspapers on family, New Mexico School, WW2 and other snippets of interest.
My association with the Red Cross (joined Junior Red Cross in 1936), CWA, View Club, Hospital Aux, and lastly but not least The D of B Club, has given me much love and companionship.
I am truly thankful that as I have made this long journey through life. I have been blessed with many sincere friends who have been like family to me, good friends and even meeting strangers along the road.
My thanks to you all.