MEMORIES PRESSED BETWEEN THE PAGES OF MY MIND...

I’m the last of my clan.

 

Never a day goes by I don’t think about the two strong, tall, good-looking, quick-witted women who were the major forces in my life... my mother, Elma Flora...and her mother, my Nana...Ivy Flora Hay nee Hose, wife of John/Jack Hay . Both were proud descendants of Scottish Highlanders – with nary an Outlander in their midst...not that I'm aware of, anyway. 

 (There is a large rock with carvings on it around the corner and up the road a little bit from here where I live. Under the cloak of darkness or a fly plaid over my head and shoulders, one night I intend going to the rock, which stands on the high ground, looking out to the wide, vast valley below.  I will stand in front of the rock, with my hands outstretched touching it...to see if I'll be whisked off on a trip back through time...if you understand the direction I'm taking you)!

I'm very proud to have Scottish Highlander blood running through my veins.   

On my paternal side, I'm second generation Irish.  Shortly after marrying in the early 1900s, my paternal grandparents came to Australia from the town of Armagh, County Armagh, Northern Ireland.  

My older brother, Graham's and my father was born in Rockhampton, a town in Central Queensland.  Graham and I, too, were born in Rockhampton.

In Scottish history few names go farther back than “Hay”.  Their ancestors lived amongst the Pictish tribe...circa 980...a little before my time. 

Through the years an infiltrator or two from Northern Ireland, (other than the Nicholsons of our father's mob) joined the maternal side of the clan.   

Those early interlopers seeking adventure and romance across the sea, departed from Giant’s Causeway, and then crossed the North Channel; sailed (I doubt they swam) past the Mull of Kintyre, and then trekked north to the Scottish highlands, where, as it came to pass, they found the Holy Grail.

As well as the Irish mob, also going out on a limb to become part of the family tree, a couple of MacDonalds and Stuarts from neighbouring Scottish clans joined the alliance. 

My mother always called her mother...”Mumma”; and her father, “Dadda”, as Nana had done before her, in reference to her own parents. 

In 1867 James Nash discovered gold in Gympie.  Many Scots flocked to the rich goldfields, settling in the area.  My maternal ancestors were amongst them. 

Previously I’ve told the story about my great-grandfather, Robert Hose.   Here is a refresher....

On 20^th February, 1918, he was working in the stopes over No. 11 level at No. 3 shaft in Gympie’s Scottish Gold Mine and Battery.   At the time Gympie’s Scottish Gold Mine was the largest in the southern hemisphere.

Usually Robert Hose didn’t work underground but, on that fateful day he took the place of an ill co-worker. A rock, estimated to be more than two hundredweight, came loose, striking him. Twenty minutes after his arrival at the Gympie hospital Robert Hose died, at the age of 50 years, leaving behind a widow and six children, ranging in age from 30 years down to nine years.

Elma, my mother had vibrant auburn hair. As a little girl, on her first day at school, her teacher asked from where she’d gotten her glorious hue.

Looking the teacher directly in the eye, without hesitation, Elma Flora’s answer was – 

“From my grandfather’s moustache!” 

Nana’s father, Robert Hose, whose hair was dark brown verging on black, had an auburn moustache.

My Nana, Ivy Flora’s hair, in her younger years, was deep chestnut in colour. 

Neither woman needed dye to achieve the envied, much-admired rich tones of her tresses. 

Before my hair turned grey, it was brunette with natural auburn-chestnut highlights.

Respectively, Mum and Nana passed away in 1974 and 1976.  In 1998, my brother Graham joined them, leaving me to single-handedly hold the fort.  Minus an escutcheon, I do the best I can.

Around this time each year my thoughts are even more so with my mother and brother....the reasons being...

Mum’s birthday was 17^th February, and Graham’s, the 28^th February, having leapfrogged over Leap Year.

Throughout the years on those dates many fun celebrations were shared.  (As well as on my birthday, 11^th November...and Nana’s – which was 13^th November – we were a close little unit of four, in many ways)!

When my brother and I were children birthdays warranted celebrating.  Parties were always on the agenda.  Mum played her part in the catering.  Our mother was an adept hand at making teasingly, tempting, delicious savoury finger foods, while Nana was the expert cake and scone-maker.

Though money didn’t grown on any of the trees around where we lived, there was little we did without.   Books, usually three or four in number, were always included amongst our presents, both for our respective birthdays, and as part of our Christmas gifts.

I cherish memories of Mum teaching Graham - who had absolutely no interest - and me – who did – how to do the Scottish sword dance (Ghillie Callum). 

With no swords in our weaponry we substituted narrow strips of wood in lieu - not steak knives – in case the thought had crossed your mind. 

A ginger-haired Gympie lass, Heather Stuart, frequently won Sword dancing competitions during those bygone days.  Fleet of foot, she was exciting and beautiful to watch.  I dreamed of being like her – a dream unfulfilled.

As well as being a wonderful pianist, Mum was a talented dancer. Elma Flora was the entertainer. Ivy Flora was the storyteller; a skilful regaler of myriad interesting, true tales that kept Graham and me intrigued during our childhood and beyond. 

I wish I’d recorded her stories; but then, I have no one to whom I can pass on the family narratives.

After I’ve gone it will be as if they were written on the wind; gone with the wind. 

My mother would have turned 99 this Saturday, 17^th February.  On the 28^th February, 2018 Graham would have turned 76.

Memories are made of this...and all of that. 

Our childhood lifestyle was simple, yet not spartan; neither were our choices of tartan...

Slàinte!  Here’s looking up your kilt!

Rumbledethumps: Boil 6c diced potatoes until soft. In large pan melt 3tbs butter. Add 6c shredded Savoy cabbage and 1 large onion, sliced thinly; season; sauté on low until tender. Preheat oven 200C. Drain spuds; put into a bowl with 4tbs butter and 1/2c milk; season. Beat with hand mixer until smooth; don’t over-beat. Add cabbage-onion; stir well. Butter deep 8x8-inch casserole/baking pan; add mixture; top with 1/2c shredded, sharp cheddar; add a layer of sliced tomatoes; sprinkle over1-1/2c of cheese. Bake 30mins or until top is golden. Sit for 5mins before serving. 

Salmon in Whisky Sauce: Place 2/3^rd c  each of Scotch and water, 8 black peppercorns, 3 bay leave s, 1 chopped carrot, 1 finely chopped onion, 3tbs lemon juice, 1/2tsp thyme, salt and pepper in a pan. Gently poach 6 salmon steaks for 7-10mins or until fish is cooked. Strain; reserve the poaching liquid. Place the salmon on a warm serving plate, cover; keep warm. Make butter sauce – whisk 3 egg yolks and 1tbs lemon juice together. Place in heatproof bowl; set over pan of hot, not boiling water on very low heat. Whisk until it begins to thicken; gradually stir in 125g butter, allowing a small amount to melt at a time. If any lumps appear, remove the bowl from heat; add a teaspoon of cold water before placing back on heat. When sauce is at required thickness, remove from heat; add in 3tbs Scotch and 3tbs poaching liquid.  Pour over salmon; served.

Pecan-Blue Cheese Shortbread: Beat 1/2c room-temp butter and 1c crumbled blue cheese until blended (don’t worry about lumps of cheese); add 1c plain flour and 1/2c finely chopped pecans or walnuts. Shape into a log, wrap in parchment or plastic wrap; refrigerate until firm or freeze for up to 6 months.

To bake, slice 1/4-inch thick and bake on an ungreased baking sheet at 175C/350F for 10 minutes, or until pale golden around the edges.

 

Scottish Sweet Tablet: Grease a baking tray (about 2.5cm deep is best) with butter:  set it aside.  Pour 150ml full fat milk and 500g granulated sugar into large pan; cook over high heat until sugar dissolves.  Pour in 400g condensed milk; stir constantly over low heat, around 20-25mins, or until mixture thickens.  Once thickened, turned a light brown and started to bubble, add 2tsp vanilla extract. Remove from heat; stir at fast pace, about 10-15mins, until thickens further and starts to brown. At this point it should start stick to the wooden spoon. Pour into prepared tray;  cool 15mins. Cut tablet into bite-sized pieces; cool; remove from tray

GUESS WHAT...

The other day I came across a questionnaire in a magazine, as shown below. 

I thought I’d give thought to it and have a bit of fun.

Over the years I've often dreamed of guests with whom I would have liked to share my dinner table.  

Physically, I rarely share my dinner table with anyone these days because I no longer entertain the way I once did, or as often as I once did....but, on the other hand, in dreams it is okay to dream; and dreams cost nothing, unlike catering for a dinner party. 

However, in saying that, the days of dinner parties and luncheons were lots of fun.  Once upon a time, I entertained often, and grandly.  And, enjoyed doing so.

Part of the questionnaire in the magazine was the question -  “With whom would you like to share a dining experience”. 

Here goes...

If there were ten people, living or dead, I would invite to dinner, they would be:

Elma Flora Hay and Ivy Flora Hay (my late mother and late grandmother), Ayn Rand, David Bowie, Willie Nelson, Banjo Patterson, Abraham Lincoln, William Wallace, Gregory Peck, Harriet Beecher Stowe

A book that means a lot to me:   Atlas Shrugged

A movie that resonates with me:   The Horse Whisperer

A song that speaks to me:   A Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Someone who makes me laugh:   Me!

My worst fashion moment:   Right this moment!

The best thing about living:   Being alive

My worst habit is:  Impatience

The weirdest place I've been recognised is:   I was relief-manager in Normanton, in far north-west Queensland in the Gulf Country – on the very first day I arrived in the remote town I was recognised by a guest who was staying in one of the motel rooms at the pub...who was enjoying his dinner in the pub’s dining room!  He was a member of the Queensland Coast Guard, and recognised me from my time at the resort on Hinchinbrook Island!!  Unbelievable!   They cover a massive area, including outback cattle stations (aka “ranches” in the US).

The last time I cried was:  Yesterday....a day never goes by that tears don’t arrive...they’re running a bit late today....but they will come somewhere along the way. Tracks of my tears - as tears go by.....

My first job was:  I was a legal secretary in Gympie for the first five years of my working life.   Gympie was the town of my childhood and teen years.

If my house caught fire, the first thing I'd grab would be:  Remy and Shama, my two best mates...my two cats...and my computer.   Two “first things”, then a third...

Five years from now, I will be:   Who knows?  Not me....

My favourite toy as a child was:   My dolls...of which there were many

My secret skill is:  S orry...I don't know if I have a secret skill...this one needs more thought...perhaps I don't have one! Anyway, if I did have one and I told you what it was, it would no longer be a secret skill!  So, I guess my secret skill is keeping my secret skill secret....

You wouldn't know it but I'm no good at:   What a silly question!

My biggest regret is:   I leave regrets behind...I've had a few, but I try to move on from them, and mostly succeed....mostly....

I wish I had:  Total independence.  On the material side of things, I wish I owned my own little residence; one that I didn’t have to rent, making me dependent on others.  I don’t desire a big, fancy residence...just a little cabin, on acreage with no nearby neighbours, along with, perhaps, a view of the ocean.

I wish I hadn't:   Become waylaid this morning...I’ve not yet begun to do what I intended doing this morning!!  Oh! Well!   In the words of Scarlett O’Hara – “After all, tomorrow is another day....”!

ANOTHER TYPICAL TROPICAL TALE FROM MY HINCHINBROOK ISLAND DAYS

Noosa National Park

Sunshine Beach

Aerial Shot of Noosa Heads...Hastings Street runs along the beackfront/foreshore

A View of Hastings Street

Beachfront Holiday Apartments, Hastings Street, Noosa Heads

Pool at Resort on Hinchinbrook Island...circa 1986

Me (second on right) with Island guests and Johnno, my barman, at far right.  (That girl standing, touching my shoulder was, at the time, Australian Ladies Deep-Sea Game Fishing Champion.....circa 1986

Before I took on the management of the then resort at Cape Richards on the far north-eastern tip of Hinchinbrook Island in Tropical North Queensland, I was living at Sunshine Beach, which is situated on the southern side of the Noosa National Park.  

I owned and operated a small, boutique-style greengrocery-health food store in Hastings Street, Noosa Heads, wherein I also prepared, daily, for sale to the public - soups, a variety of salads, including fruit salad, fruit salad ice blocks/popsicals, carrot cakes, fruit cakes, muesli biscuits/cookies, boiled and roasted peanuts, guacamole, smoothies etc.

A couple of young people who frequented the arcade in which my store was situated, when they heard I was heading north to a life on the island, begged me for a job up on the island.   

Their pleading and cajoling eventually wore me down, but not after I explained how different life on an island in the middle of the ocean would be to the lifestyle they were used to living in Noosa where their friends and families were; where there were hotels, clubs etc., for their pleasures.  

 Before making their decision, and I mine, I suggested they go away; to give the matter detailed, serious thought overnight...to sleep on what I’d said, and in the cold light of the following day or the day thereafter come back to me with their clear, unfettered decision.  

The following morning, hardly able to contain their excitement, they ran into my shop with their decision...they wanted a job at the resort.  How could I say "No" when faced with such enthusiasm?

Mark, a nice young lad of pleasant disposition, was the nephew of a fellow who owned and ran the dive shop next to my store in the Laguna Arcade, Hastings Street. Mark’s home-base was Sydney but, as with a lot of the young and restless, Noosa and the surrounding surf beaches were impossible-to-ignore temptations.  Like ants to honey, young folk flocked to the area.

Bronnie worked in a take-away store, “Miss Piggy’s” in the same arcade...a couple of shops away from mine.  She also lived at Sunshine Beach, not far from where I lived - at home with her mother, father and siblings.

Mark and Bronnie became two of my original five staff members from Noosa Heads who joined me on the island. 

Three of the five were brought up for the initial period, before the re-opening of the resort, to help with the renovations that needed to be carried out, one a plumber, one a builder/carpenter and the other an electrician. It was almost like ‘home away from home’ during the first few weeks.   

Cyclone Winifred had gone through the area over the Australia Day weekend, 1986.  “She” had kindly wiped out the resort’s jetty while on her destructive rampage.  So a new jetty was of pressing importance.

I wasn’t quite sure what Mark was capable of doing, work-wise, and, as I got to know him further and watch him “work”, I remained unsure!

However, he was a nice young man; one who was eager to please and keen to be among the ‘early settlers’.  I was prepared to give him a go.

Once the major renovations were completed, Mark joined the rest of my “crew” just before the grand re-opening of the resort.

I anointed him ‘barman’ (this was before Johnno joined my merry band of pirates – more about Johnno at a later date.  Johnno was “barman-extraordinaire.  He was also ex-Noosa).

The major renovation work around the resort was completed but, as you can imagine there was still a lot of activity going on in the perimeters, and up around the guest cabins.  Maintenance was non-stop, naturally.

Fortunately, the majority of the island guests, once they’d had their breakfast would either grab a prepared picnic lunch before heading off on walks through the rain-forest to other deserted beaches to spend the day, or others would board the ‘Reef Venture”, the powered catamaran that serviced the island for trips to the Brook Islands, a distance away at the outer reef, (Great Barrier Reef), or to Ramsay Bay. Other times, guests would spend the day on  Goold Island and Garden Island across the way from the resort for a fun-filled day.    

Trips down along the eastern, outer side of the island to Zoe Bay and to Zoe Falls were dependent upon the weather and prevailing winds.  The Zoe Bay trip was one worth going on when conditions permitted.

Mark’s first working day arrived.   

The few guests we had had disappeared somewhere for the day via on the “Reef Venture”.  They weren’t due back to the resort until somewhere around 3.30 pm.

Ted, my head maintenance guy (and knighted ‘python charmer – another story for another day) had everyone, dressed in their “labouring gear”, organised, pushing wheelbarrows full of God-only-knows-what, toting long beams of hardwood, shifting outdoor concrete tiles/blocks around. The air was alive, and hectic with energised activity.  The construction of the new timber deck and the tables thereon was completed, but there were still a few finishing touches that needed to be done.

There was everyone as busy as bees when, around 10.00 am, Mark leisurely strolled into the restaurant dressed in a colourful, flowery shirt over freshly-ironed, wrinkle-free knee-length, spotlessly-clean shorts.    

The Hawaiian-style shirt wasn’t really the “look” I was going for on Hinchinbrook Island, for either myself or my staff!

The only signs of mankind around the resort at that particular moment (and for the ensuing few hours) were we island dwellers-resort-workers.  All other humans had disappeared for the day.

All the activity going on was that of my busy workmen, all of whom were getting not only their hands dirty, but their attire, too!  I was out on the deck helping them in whatever way they needed my assistance.   

Turning around, I saw Mark in all his brilliant glory, freshly showered, dressed with not a hair out of place, standing behind the resort's humble cocktail bar, a broad smile on his face.  There was not another soul in sight.   And the likelihood of anyone else, a patron, appearing was zero to none.

“What are you doing, Mark?” I asked, querulously.

“Um…the bar…” he said, his voice trailing off as he tentatively looked about him.  Slowly, very slowly, the penny began to drop.

“Oh…” said I.  Not wanting to hurt his feelings or embarrass him, I walked into the restaurant area and over to him at the bar.

Quietly and gently, I pointed out to him there were no customers, and the likelihood of us having any guests around the bar until about 5.30-6pm that evening was extremely remote. 

As diplomatically as possible, I also pointed out it wasn’t very productive his just standing there with a smile on his face in the desperate hope a sole, desperate drinker would arrive. I also suggested, if such an occurrance did eventuate, one of us, or the chef even, could run to the bar and attend to the deed of drink service.

Mark left to return to the staff quarters and, soon thereafter, he reappeared in more suitable work clothes, to become Ted’s ‘goffer’.

So that was Mark. A pleasant young man who, sometimes, needed prodding to wake up either the right side or left side of his brain, or, sometimes, both sides.

My intention here is not to sound nasty; and I hope my words don’t come across that way.  I’m painting a picture of Mark for you.

Comfortably he settled into life on the island, and, for a while, was happy in his day-to-day jobs helping Ted and the other guys. At night, he was barman-material...in the making.

Mark, with his innocent, naive, harmless ways, created much goodhearted humour among his co-workers. None of the laughter was meant in a degrading way. 

 Humiliation of another was not on anyone’s agenda.

More to follow....