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Linda R Brooks

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Member Since: Sep, 2009

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A Curious and Inelegant Childhood
by Linda R Brooks   

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Category: 

Biography

Type: 
Pages: 

121


Non-Fiction

If we gather the threads from the snapshots of our childhood we find the person we have become. We find ourselves.


In this fast paced, often hilarious memoir, Linda shares her childhood memories of growing up in rural Australia in the Fifties and Sixties. This tightly woven collection contains the warm and insightful reminiscences of a curious child fascinated by the world and its people, having a joyous passion for life, and an irrepressible thirst for answers. With fearless, self deprecating humour, Linda pares back the layers of family life and takes us on a rare journey of self discovery.


Excerpt

The Great Australian Shed

Along the journey of my unconventional childhood, I was introduced to ‘the great Australian shed’. As Australians, we are excessively fond of our sheds. My theory regarding this lies in our convict heritage. After all, we arrived in this harsh land, with nothing but the chains on our feet. The ships that brought us here carried more guns and soldiers than tools. Ingenuity was mandatory. If the aristocracy had arrived without the convict element they would soon have died; manual labour was of more value in this new land than following correct morning-tea rituals. Of course, it’s only a theory.
At first, when very young, I thought the shed was where Dad hid from Mum. Later on, I discovered that although there may have been some truth to this assumption, there was so much more to Dad’s shed. It was chock full of useful tools that Dad used to make marvellous things. I was constantly fascinated and often joined him there, and the fact that this was a place of gentle harmony added to the appeal.
Mum would get up a full head of steam to tackle the housework, taking on the mantle of martyred slavery. Mops, buckets and vacuum cleaners would appear. Dad would stand near the back door and clear his throat.
“I’m just ducking out to the shed, Else,” he’d say.
I would stand next to him.
“I’m duckin’ too,” I would add, holding my breath and crossing my fingers. Escape was so near but so far. Because we were both deemed hopeless at assisting Mum in the housework that began at dawn and ended at midnight, she’d let us go with a weary sigh.




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