Yarns of Yesteryear

Bush Christmas

 

A manic festive season, punctured by the Christmas Day highlight, now has a popular count down of “how many sleeps”. How good is it for you? For many, the excess hangover last months with a mountain of credit card bills, holiday expenses and hard yakka getting off the excess weight. Chermside retailers celebrate with a 32-hour “shop till you drop”, in yet another play to squeeze the last cents from your wallet.

In the 50’s, I had a love/hate relationship with Christmas Day. The build up started just before school break up, with Johnny Mole and I collecting cash, door to door, to finance the end of school party. (Sixpence was always waiting at Mrs Wright’s, now Wantima).

On Christmas Eve, Dad, with sharpened axe and kids in tow, would search the bush (now Fred Campbell Drive_ for a prime “She Oak” Christmas tree. Well shaped, 10 feet high (3 metres in new money). Mum, in readiness with foil milk bottle tops, lemon squeezer (for shaping into bells), crepe paper, glue, scissors and pre-painted bush nuts, would guide our eager hands on Christmas eve, so the tree was fresh for the mid night visit.

The milk for Santa had to be fresh from Cutherbert’s Dairy (Levant St), and Santa liked lots of cream on top, and the biscuits, home made of course. Presto! Next morning, presents under the tree. All this activity was pressed into 12 hours of unparalleled excitement. Presents were never opened before Church at Aspley (now Albany Creek Road between the TAB and The Coffee Club).

Can you remember what you got from Santa, say, 2 years ago or 20 years ago?

In my case, more often then not, Christmas presents were home made like a plywood castle to complement the meccano set, timber off cut building blocks, ply made bridges for the Hornsby set, wheelbarrows, prams, cots, billy carts, etc. Almost 60 years on, I still have some of those presents.

In the 21st Century, it’s quicker to slap the presents on plastic. Very likely they will be at throwaway stage before they are paid for. Christmas expenses now seem to be the dominant theme, rather than the importance of family get togethers.

Christmas Day at Campbell’s was always hot – very hot. And the 10,000 chooks continued to lay eggs prolifically. And with all the 10 staff on holidays, it was the family who collected and packed the eggs. And the water pumps always broke down, or the inlet piped clogged in the creek, requiring a dip by me with the water snakes (Mahaca Park). And the bush fires. The city slickers Christmas picnics at Cash’s, Bunya, Leitch’s and Eaton’s Crossing always meant bush fire duty for the volunteer fire brigade and its fire warden, Matt Campbell.

Instead of Santa asking, “what do you want for Christmas?” why not ask, “what special things are you and your family planning for Christmas?”

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