Each ear we go for holidays to a place they call Nambucca,
We take along our tents and rods and just, eat fish for tucker.
Mum and I go up by train, we like to get there early,
Mother does the shopping whilst I hunt for bait and berley.
The boys both bring their cars along and park them on the shore,
There's boats to tow, tents to stow and cooking, gear galore.
There's tables for our dinner and chairs to sit upon,
Stools and crates and cushions, enough for everyone.
There's cupboards for the food and cupboards for the clothes,
A play-pen, fan and high chair, we really must have those.
There's a clothes line for the washing, hear the women cheer,
There's a fridge to keep the bait in, and a fridge to chill thebeer.
One boy breaks down at Gosford, his gear box packs it in,
Tis the second time it's been replaced; it really is a sin,
A fun bus is hired, fourteen seats in all,
Reloads the dog and luggage and the boat he has to haul.
We sit around the park next day till everyone turns up,
We pitch the tents, prepare the boats, then it's time to sup.
I know you think this tale will end with stories of the storm,
With tents washed out, blankets wet, and no place to keep warm.
No prawns to buy or fi.sh to fxy, things surely did look dim,
The day was saved with swimming togs, we all,went for a swim.
Next day we madea little dough,
Went fishing when the tide was low.
We broke up bread to lure the Mullet,
Then hauled them in with dough in their gullet.
The Mullet proved to be the bait for F1athead and for Bream,
We also caught some Tailor and got snagged upon a limb.
Fish we cooked for tea each night often in the wet,
With schoolies from the co-op, 'twas all that they could get.
I'm very sad and mournful as I watch,the river flow,
It's been two weeks since we arrived but now it's time to go.
It's not farewell but arrivederci, or is it bon adieu?
You can rest assured that we'll return just as we always do.
GREG FOGARTY 23.1.1987
Every family that I've known has a problem that's unique
It's called communication, those who manage reach a peak.
A peak where aspirations have no limits or restraints,
Those who cannot manage are the ones who make complaints.
In communication we use the five great senses,
Sight and sound alone will not help jump the fences,
Used alone they don't help much,
They must combine with smell and touch.
And of course forgetting taste,
That would be an awful waste.
During all the years I worked, I often came home late,
The dinner cooked upon the stove, then my wife would wait,
As I trod the garden path, rich odours could I smell,
I knew the curry in the pot would taste so very well.
I came inside and when I tried, to touch my little mate,
She backed around and made no sound,
But boy, could she communicate.
At National Park with the Younger Set
the Duncan's were always there
Larry, Jean and Mary, with a ribbon in her hair.
The Hart girls too, both Joan and Cass,
Would leave together after Mass.
At the park first down the hill,
Were Thelma Lyons, with Merv and Phil,
Kevin Ryan the boats would ready,
Fredrick Grant would hold them steady.
Up the river we would go,
Only girls allowed to row.
At night by train on the long way home,
We would whistle and sing and play on the comb.
Bingo is a game they play
Everynight and every day.
All over the country in halls and in clubs,
Thank goodness it's not yet invaded the pubs.
There's plenty of prizes on hand to be won,
Excitement mounts as the game is begun.
The caller outlines all of the rules,
I think its harder than playing the pools.
The game could be Lotto, Mr. T or race track,
The card any colour other than black.
"Eyes down" says the caller as she lights up the board,
Then calls out the numbers before each one is stored.
"Double one" is called, thats legs eleven ,
While "Sun set strip" is seventy seven.
Sixty four dollar question" is sixty four,
And twenty one is "key to the door
"Car fifty four where are you
"All the twos" thats twenty two,
On its own, number six,
And sixty six is "Clickerty Click" .
"House" calls a player, the game suddenly stops,
"False alarm" is called, the next number pops.
Six more numbers are called as the game starts to flow,
Only two more, then shouts of "bingo".
The cards are checked, all is OK,
Then its "Eyes dwn" again, a new game's away.
Its forty years ago today that we went to the show,
With not a visit in between, now's the time to go.
Early up and pack a hamper with goodies for our dinner,
Paper plates and cups, to throw away, they really are a winner.
Leave the family car at home, we'll use the bus and train,
Better pack the weather gear, it's almost sure to rain.
We take our time no hurry, as we head towards the gate,
We join the queue then hardly move, at this pace we'll be late.
Inside the gate, which way to go? there's so much we must see,
You pay for rides and show bags, most other things are free.
Step by step we muddle through, displays in the pavilions,
As we enter, come the swarms, of salesmen in their trillions.
After two displays, we really have no doubt ,
Salesmen such as these, we can surely do without.
T'was at this point we both agreed,
Exhibits, it was going to be.
Produce, livestock, arts and crafts,
Then to the rides for lots of laughs.
Time to eat our goodies and make toward the stand,
So many stairs to climb, but oh, the view is grand.
Harness racing round the track, show jumping on the green,
Rodeo for the cowboys rid:ing critters that are mean.
Then come the fireworks, floodlights all go out,
Darkness shrouds the ground as rockets swish about.
One by one they ail explode, their contents to surrender
A myriad of lights erupt in wondrous coloured splendour.
Looking at the programme, it must be time to go,
One more dispiay, its running late, thats the laser show.
Cutting coloured shapes from the darkness of the night.
Lines and squares and circles in radiant glowing light
Another burst of fireworks showering colours in the sky.
Fingered by the laser as an aircraft passes by.
As the magic of the moment fades, the laser lights retreat,
Floodlights penetrate the night as we all rise to our feet.
Crowds stream towards the exits where buses line the street
Join the jostle in the queue and scramble for a seat.
Home at last, its supper time, we sit around and ponder,
Will it be another forty years - before we venture yonder ?
Each year about November our aged Aunt brings to our attention the fact that she still has two free rail passes to use before the end of the year.
The end of the year, two passes to use,
So travel brochures we peruse,
at Newcastle we spend a day,
Come home in a most unusual way,
Express to Wyong - nothing strange,
Next stop Gosford - then all change,
Bus to Hornsby, in a rage,
Change to train from another age.
Windows won't close, all doors open,
For air conditioning I'd been hopin,
The day was fine, lovely weather,
will I go again ....NEVER ! ....NEVER !
I had a stroke some months ago,
They thinned my blood to make it flow.
I lost some sight from the upper right quadrant
So I don't see where I'm going,
When I bump my shin, you can see where I've bin,
You can see the claret flowing.
I've got bandaids on my ankles and bandaids on my toes,
I've got bandaids on my forehead and even on my nose.
I go each week to R.P.A. to have my P.I. taken,
I always go on Tuesday as soon as I awaken.
Our vampire arrives at half past six to prepare her bottles
and labels,
By the time we arrive its all very neat and arrayed upon her
tables.
We sit around on labelled chairs, we move along in turn,
Our hands are steady, our eyes don't flinch but our stomach
starts to churn.
When we are called we remove our jacket - roll our shirt sleeve
out of the way,
Quick as a flash the Sister in Charge, applies the tourniquet.
As the obscure vein begins to swell she records our number
and name.
The needle goes in, the blood oozes out, somehow it's always
the same.
My reading needs to be around sixty before it's "Systems go" ,
Fourty five is much too thin while eighty five's a no no.
Everything I like to eat is rationed on my diet,
Spinach and alfalfa, it's a waste of time to buy it.
I don't go out that much at night, I find the driving testing,
I use the three R's to improve myself
READING... RITING... and RESTING.
December 1986.