Yesterday was our day for Deloraine Probus. We're still involved even though I resent the 100 Km round trip. Marilyn, to my surprise, announced she wasn't going. I had a couple of things to take to the meeting to set off on my own. I always arrive early and found myself involved in the setting up: putting out little tables and chairs to give the impression of a Parisian cafe. We always used to set up in rows but some bright spark, who always comes late, decided it would be nicer if we went cafe-style.
I also found myself collecting the money at the door which is OK. Mid-way through the meeting we haven morning tea and the Chairman sidled up to me and whispered in my ear that we were running early and could I fill in some time by telling some stories about my early life. That's OK: I'm always happy to tell my life story but I'm not good at impromptu situations and get tongue-tied if I don't have notes.
I started with the story of being born during an air raid and our early life in a tenement in Blantyre. Then, how my very conservative father announced he had been offered a job in Port Kembla and we were moving to Australia. It seemed to be pretty well-received and there were a few questions. I put down the microphone and some clown said, "No, we want more." So, I talked about living in Russell Vale and then moving to Drummoyne where we lived with the people who ran the Olympic Pool.
"More!" was the cry, so I told about starting my working life counting the takings from the orange buses which travelled around Wollongong and then deciding to become a teacher. I was struggling by this stage and was delighted when the real guest speaker turned up. He was the Sports Editor for the local paper and had a great lot of storied to tell about his travels to Olympic Games and other events.
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