Posts Tagged ‘Australia’

A BUSY LIFE

December 1, 2018

A BUSY LIFE
By Doug Farnill
(East Leeds lad now in Australia)

A BUSY LIFE
In 1947 I started work as an apprentice at Geo Bray and Co. One of my fellow apprentices and close friend was Jack Bosomworth. (I would love to be in contact with Jack someday to compare our life stories). One day, Jack asked if I would like a weekend job, helping him and his father, Mr Bosomworth – I never knew his first name – erect garden sheds and garages. My apprentice pay was about 24 shillings in the old money, and I gave most of that to Mam, who allowed me a few shillings spending money. So, I jumped at the chance of acquiring a few extra bob.
The sheds and garages consisted of wooden frames to which fibro-cement (aka asbestos) sheets were nailed. A seven foot by five- foot garden shed was a fairly small job and Mr Bosomworth could manage one on his own. A 16- by 8-foot garage with a concrete floor, however, was a different matter. Jack and I would nail the frames, cut the asbestos sheets to fit, and nail the panels to the wooden frames with galvanised nails. We cut the asbestos by scraping a groove down the required line and breaking the sheet over a straight edge. The nail holes had to be drilled, otherwise the asbestos sheet would split. What with scraping, drilling, and hammering, there was lots of asbestos dust floating around.
I worked every other Saturday or so for 5 years before emigrating to Australia. In the beginning I took 10 shillings for my day’s pay, and later negotiated 15 shillings. Despite being frugal, by 1952 I still needed to borrow money for my sea trip to Australia.
I have survived 70 years since my regular encounters with the asbestos dust and count my lucky stars. I worked hard, learned a lot, earned not so much, enjoyed great mateship, and still look back with some nostalgia at what Jack and I used to achieve. We polished our techniques to eliminate waste, made special scraping tools out of old metal files, and perfected mixing batches of concrete in an old galvanised bath tub. In retrospect, I’m not confident that our sheds and garages would stand without wobble for more than a few years, nor am I sure that our thin concrete (in cement strength and actual thickness) would have stood much weight without cracking, but I never heard any complaints.
A 43.75 hour working week at Geo Brays, a 7-8 hour Saturday job, three nights a week night-school, Saturday nights at the Mecca or Barnbow or Starlight Room, and Sundays with the Leeds Atlas Cycling Club, how was it possible? It was a busy life for a Yorkshire lad. If you told a young person these days, they would never believe you!
Seriously, if anyone knows Jack Bosomworth I would love to hear. And, it would be nice to hear some more of the part-time jobs that we used to do in the old days.

Great tale Doug. This sets up a stall for anyone else to send tales of their after school or part time jobs. If anyone has any information concerning hack Bosomworth please send a comment to this site and we will try and put Jack or his descendants in touch with Doug after all these years – I’m sure Doug would love that.

LOOK OUT FOR A CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

THE TEA CUP READER

September 1, 2017

Here’s another great tale from our favourite Aussie pom our East Leeds lass in Australia
Audrey Sanderson (nee Tyres).
Hit ’em with it Aud!

THE TEA CUP READER

By Audrey Sanderson

Reading Eric’s recent stories of poltergeist and all things ghostly set me remembering when I and two friends used to go to the tea cup readers. At that time there was lots of tea rooms in and around Brisbane. Predicting the future through reading tea leaves and tarot cards was illegal so they called it tea and entertainment. They were as thinly disguised as the brothels of the time were. The tea rooms were not as blazenly advertised as the other form of entertainment was. Most were what is now called Mum and Pop cafés. The only cooking done was toasted sandwiches; no deep fried anything or vast menus to choose from. Simple sandwiches of ham and cheese, plain ham, canned salmon, chicken. No gourmet cakes but scones with jam and proper cream, sponge cakes, fruit cake, shortbread biscuits, all homemade and delicious.
You usually found these small establishments by word of mouth. All the sign outside the establishments said was Tea Room and opening hours. Some were tucked away in shopping arcades, some up a flight of steps and over the shops on street level. All of them were very discrete and very quiet when you walked inside. There were only about 6 small tables with 2-3 chairs at each one. Tables have pretty cloths with a very small vase of flowers in the centre and an ash tray.
Everyone spoke in whispers as you gave your order to the waitress. They served coffee but of course if you were having tea leaves read you obviously ordered tea. I got a fit of the giggles every time I went in to one of those places. All the secrecy and whispering when everybody from miles around knew what you were going to a tea room for.
One of my friends was a staunch catholic and was having doubt if she should be there or not. We told her she could wait outside on the footpath if she felt that way about being there and we’d tell her all about it when we came out. She got huffy and said that would be worse as she’d feel like a lady of the night. We were acting like adolescent kids. I said she could stand on the other side of the street on the corner and swing her handbag; she might be able to earn a few dollars and only charge half price because it was in the middle of the day. She didn’t see the funny side at all. She didn’t leave though and said she wasn’t going to confess where she’d been as like the sign said it wasn’t fortune telling it was entertainment.
So we sat and ate the sandwiches and cake, drank the coffee and waited for our turn with Mystic Meg or whoever was the soothsayer that day. When the tea or coffee was served you were given a small ticket, about as big as a raffle ticket at the local pub for a meat tray prize. You had to give the ticket to the mysterious one for him/her to get paid for the day’s work. It wasn’t actually a full day they opened around 10 a.m. and closed at 3 p.m.

Waiting was like waiting in a doctor’s surgery when I was a kid. You looked around at faces and calculated when it would be your turn. My catholic friend thought the ticket was the number they called out when it was your turn. My other friend, a seasoned tea room visitor told her to be civilised as it was not like a queue at the local delicatessen.
She told me to stop laughing or I’d get the lot of us thrown out. Have you ever tried to stop laughing when you have a fit of the giggles? It makes me want to laugh more. I had to keep looking at the table cloth and try not to laugh. When I looked up to take a quick scan of the room I nearly had convulsions. The others in waiting were all women with dead set serious faces. I thought any minute John Cleese was going to walk in.
Discretion was the thing at these places. You weren’t meant to listen in to anyone else’s readings and being a novice I assumed there would be another room used for revealing the future. We’d sat at the only vacant table and didn’t know the folding screen next to us was where the actual entertainment was. It wasn’t until a lady left the cafe´ and one of the ladies in waiting moved behind the screen that it dawned on me that am where the action took place. My first thought was My God! Could they hear what we’d been saying? What a bunch of idiots thinking no one could hear us. It stopped me from laughing anyhow. You couldn’t hear what was beginning said behind the screen so hopefully the previous lady hadn’t heard us.
Eventually after what felt like hours it was our turn. My catholic friend didn’t want to go first the other friend said she always went last if she goes with anyone else. Looks like I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t feel like laughing as I went behind the screen and sat down at the small table. The man sat opposite me was on the large side and asked if WE were having our cards read today. I didn’t play up by looking round to see if there was anyone else with me so I just said yes and handed him my ticket. He put it in a very nice beaded drawstring bag that was on the table. Talk about surprised. I thought card reading would be from an ordinary deck of card with Kings, Queens and Aces.
I had an aunt who used to say she could read cards when you chose one but it was from a deck of playing cards. These cards were enormous and had medieval pictures on them. What have I got myself into!! Wait ’til I get outside, that lunatic who talked us into going had said nothing about weird stuff. The man asked me to shuffle the cards. I’m no good at shuffling normal sized ones these went all over the table when I tried to mix them up. The man wasn’t impressed, gathered them up saying he would give them a good shuffle but I must handle the cards before he could read what was in store for me. I could see my immediate future as a quick exit and not embarrass myself anymore than what I had done. The cards whizzed through his hands and he handed them back to me telling me to do the best I could and not to drop them again. Great, being chastised by card shuffler and owner of a classy evening bag. I managed to shove some cards into spaces without dropping any and handed them back to him. He did a lot of hmmming as he looked over them and said they were pretty good. He was enjoying himself playing with the cards and pictures; he could have told me anything I hadn’t a clue what any of the pictures represented. He made a big t’do as he told me what it all meant. Can’t remember word for word what he said but it was about getting news from overseas. This happened ages before the internet and airmail letters took 6 days to arrive from England. He was on pretty safe ground as my Yorkshire accent is as strong today as it was when I lived in Leeds. I’d drawn a money card he said I told him it was probably bills that needed paying. He said no, it was money coming to me. As I don’t enjoy losing I don’t gamble so couldn’t see that happening. My love life was on the up and up and a man was coming into my life that was going to disperse all of my problems. O Goody can’t wait for him to arrive. A bit more about me and how I got on well with people and he could see an aura surrounding me which was very favourable as it was purple and that meant royalty. More Goody Goody, Prince Charming at last going to solve all my problems.
I went back to the others at the table and my catholic friend nervously went behind the screen. My other friend excitedly asked what he’d seen in the cards for me. I pulled a face, “News from my mother surprise surprise, a money gain and Prince Charming on a white horse is going to sweep me off my feet.” She clapped her hands together and said she hoped he told her the same. O Good. I get a man and she wants him, that’s no surprise at all she’s man mad.
Back comes my guilt ridden friend saying the man was a nut case and said he could see a wedding looming on the horizon. She was as mad as hell saying it had been a waste of money. I said not a complete waste she’s had some lovely toasted sandwiches, melt in the mouth cake and a great cup of coffee. It wasn’t listed you paid for the card reading as the cops would have raided them you just paid a little extra than other cafés charged for the eats and drinks.
When the 3rd. of our little group came out from behind the screen she hurried us out onto the footpath. “What’s the hurry? Are you babysitting and got to pick up the child from school?”
“No, hurry up and get in the car I’m going out tonight”
“Why didn’t you say beforehand we could have gone tea cup reading on another day”
“It’s because of the cards I’m going out tonight. Can’t you go any faster I’ve got to iron a dress?”
We asked what the soothsayer had told her. One of her cards was cupid or whatever the love card was and he said today was exceptionally good for her to meet people and it might mean a romance for her. Green lights all the way as far as she was concerned. I’d hardly stopped the car outside my place before she hopped out and got into her own car and sped off.
Us two went into my kitchen where I put the jug on for more coffee and asked if she was feeling any better than she was half an hour ago. She said not much as she was sure it would be her ex-husband getting married to the woman he’d left her for. I said she was well rid of him and could now sleep nights without wondering who he was philandering with and to forget the card reader. She said it was etched into her brain. I said nothing he told me was going to make a penny worth of difference and asked if she could see a purple light behind me. She asked what the hell I was talking about so I told her how the mystic one had seen a purple aura around me and said it meant royalty so in future she’d better brush up on her curtsies in case I got lucky.
She laughed a bit and said “Shall I tell you exactly what he said?” I said not if it was going to upset her. She said she wasn’t going to cry but if she told me maybe I could make better sense of it. I told her I knew absolutely nothing about fortune telling. The farthest I’d ever been into it was to read the stars in the morning paper and that was one size fits all.
Again can’t remember word for word but the card reader hadn’t said anyone was getting married he said what he could see was a lot of people celebrating a happy occasion and it could be a wedding. He’d put the idea into her mind and she’d assumed it was her ex that was taking the plunge. We talked about it for a while, could mean this, could mean that. I asked if he’d told her anything else. “The idiot asked if I was thinking of buying a new car as he could see something metal on four wheels “I said it might be a billy cart and laughed…she didn’t. I told her not to take it serious; it was good for a laugh and got us out of the house for an afternoon. Still serious “There’s something else. He said he saw a female who might cause a problem. It will be the new woman in the old fart’s life, she’ll try to cut my kids out of his will ” I said I’d be the female causing trouble if she didn’t stop being a pain in the neck ” Look on the bright side, you might get an invite to a party in the next week or two. If you do, ask if I can go too “She shrugged I’ve already got an invite to the twins birthday party. They are 8 next week, you can come along if you want, and you like entertaining kids “I said I’d give it a miss. They were holy terrors and always fighting with each other. She started smiling “You know what; I think I’ve solved what the tea cup reader meant. I’ve bought Josh a model of a racing car for his birthday and Rhonda a bride doll. He has such funny sayings and makes me laugh and she can be a little madam when she wants” Thank God for that. No more mention of ex husband and his paramour, weddings or new man in her life and no more guilty feelings of having her fortune told.

I got frequent mail from overseas I wrote to a lot of people. I never got any surprise money just my fortnightly pension and the only guy who takes away something I don’t need is the garbage man who comes every Monday. It’s a good job I didn’t hold my breath waiting for Prince Charming or any other form of royalty. Maybe the purple hue he saw round me was the sun reflecting on something outside and I was stood in the way.
The man mad one had a string of guys and the last time I saw her she was still looking for Mr Right. She did continue going weekly to tea cup readers, sometimes to different ones in a week until she found one that told her what she wanted to hear. She also had a dabble with séances and oiuja boards. I cried off going to them. I’m not that interested what the future holds. I didn’t fancy being in a dark room holding hands with a bunch of strangers waiting for something to happen. I’d been in an amateur theatre group for years and found out how to make illusions happen on stage. I enjoyed that as I knew all the people well. They had big egos but they wasn’t that weird.
She used to tell me things that had happened at séances and kept asking me to go with her. She was O. K. with the oiuja board when she first started going to the group that had one. She swore she never moved the upturned glass as it spelt out the names of the people round the table. It didn’t stay that friendly after a short time. When she told me it had whizzed all over the board spelling out Knives, Maim and Kill she said she was scared. I told her to stop going and her problem would be solved. She’s definitely not into violence she’s more the Mills & Boon type of person and happy endings. She continued with the séances for quite a while before she said she was fed up listening to dead people she wanted a man with some life in him.
The funniest one of all she told me about was one of the earliest gatherings she’d been to. She’d mentioned others of candles flickering when a spirit was present, smelling perfume or burning wood, mist floating around and cigarette smoke drifting by. Real amateur theatrics making that happen in a dark room.
But the one I remember most was the one which she went to where the Clairvoyant had managed to call up the spirit of a lady’s dead husband. He asked her if she was looking after the rose trees he’d planted and she said she did exactly how he’d showed what to do. An older man’s grandmother said she’d met some of the other relatives and they were all fine and at peace with everything. Then the woman went into a trance and started talking like a parrot. It squawked out a man’s name and a man at the table said he was there. More squawking and the parrot said how he wished he was back with the man and the man close to tears saying how much he missed him.

Tears were running down my face too I couldn’t stop laughing. She said I was rotten for laughing and didn’t I believe her. I said I believed what she’d told me but didn’t believe the Clairvoyant.
She said I should go with her sometime and see for myself. “Any how I believed it. You know how much I like pets I’m telling you Audrey it really was the parrots voice. It was lovely to hear it say he missed the man and he thought so too or he wouldn’t have been nearly crying. Why don’t you come with me? Is there someone from your past you’d like to talk to?”
I said I could ask Cary Grant if he was coming back.
“You actually knew Cary Grant!!!!” Sure, along with Errol Flynn, Robert Mitchum and Clark Gable. I asked if the Clairvoyant had found anyone for her to chat with.
“No you don’t ask her to find someone. You have to wait until she goes into a trance and then she asks if there’s anyone in the room called ???? And if there is she tells them what the spirit wants them to know”
“O.K. That’s how it works is it… How come the parrot got to talk for its self?”
“Sometimes that’s how it happens and I think that’s when she becomes a medium and they talk through her “I was finding it very difficult not to scream laughing. Years later I was reminded of what she’d said when I saw the movie Ghost. I also asked if they got a cup of tea and biscuits afterwards. She said no, as soon as the overhead lights go on everyone goes home. She said the woman was exhausted after going into a trance
” It must take a lot out of her doing all that Audrey I wonder if it’s hard to learn how to do it ” She was always getting crack pot ideas so I told her she was crackers enough without going into a trance and floating around the room. Told her she’d be floating around forever as she’d forget how to get out of the trance. She was always losing her glasses, car keys, and looking round car parks at shopping centres for her car.

Time moved on after World Exppo ’88 came to Brisbane. Countries from all over the world brought the best of their countries to show to everyone and also for them to see Australia. Brisbane changed forever. Not only Aussies going overseas to see other countries the rest of the world wanted to see us. Tourists poured into the country and multi story hotels popped up like mushrooms. Sacrifices had to be made and lots of the older small building was replaced with flash new ones. The end of the tea rooms which were replaced by side walk cafés and the word alfresco became trendy. Glitzy, glamorous but not half as much fun as the quaint discrete old fashioned tea rooms.