‘I loved the way we’d spend our weekends when I was a child’

I loved the weekends I had as a child. My clearest memory is from when I was around five years of age (I’m not sure anything before then would have been retained by my young brain anyway).

On Saturday, I would grab my skipping rope and head out the back door of our house. The sun would have only just started to rise and I’d stand on the back steps looking up at the sky in all its morning glory. I remember feeling so happy and full of excitement.

I’d start jumping and the rope would hit the path. That ‘thud, thud’ noise is still clear in my mind. My father would yell, “That better not be you in the morning air, Heather. Next thing you’ll be coughing. Get inside now.”

I would return indoors and sit at the kitchen table waiting for my mother to appear. She’d be tying the cord of her chenille dressing gown, shaking her head at me, but with a smile on her face. I’d ask her if we could go to the beach and she’d say ‘yes’ but only after all the work had been done around the home.

She’d make a steaming mug of sugary tea and a hot bowl of oats for me. When I’d finished I’d rush off to make my bed and get dressed for the day.

My older sister and brother would be awake by this stage. They’d have their breakfast and then we’d grab our towels and head for the beach. We’d walk down the hill with the sun streaming on our faces. I thought it was delightful.

I remember that when we arrived at the beach the seagulls would welcome us as we rushed into the water. When the crowds started to arrive, and with no watch to tell us the time, we’d head back home.

We’d hang our swimming costumes and towels and get stuck in with whatever chores we’d neglected in the morning. My sister and I would sit at the table, rag in one hand and a tin of Brasso between us, and polish the cutlery. We had to clean it until it shone.

My brother would drag out the mats and place them over the clothesline before beating them madly with a broom. He was trying to rid them of the week’s dust.

Dad would mow the lawn and tidy the yard. We had to collect the eggs and pick the vegetables from his flourishing vegetable garden. I loved the smell of freshly cut grass and to this day I still reminisce about my childhood when I smell it.

I loved the evenings when we’d play games and listen to the radio. We did this every Saturday night.

Every Sunday we’d dress in our best clothes, gloves and hats included, and walk to church. When we came home, we’d polish our shoes in preparation for school the next day and our school bags would be packed.

We’d sit down as a family for a baked dinner on Sunday night, which included bread and butter pudding for dessert. Life was complete!

I loved how we spent our weekends when I was a child. These are memories I’ll always treasure.

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