Way back in the 'Fifties we had FJ Holden cars, doctors who paid house-calls and post-men who actually delivered twice a day (yes,really) and what's more, blew a whistle to announce their arrival. Remember these things? Do you also remember women wearing hats and gloves to church or even to go shopping, especially in the city; shoes and bags that fashion decreed had to match and the kind of dresses that young girls today are clamouring for? My daughter went through a 'Fifties' inspired look a few years back and she looked absolutely gorgeous. You can imagine that after seeing  her wear 'Goth' garb for a couple of years, I was ecstatic with this glamorous vintage look.

Bodgies and Widgies: My Mum used to say: 'Look out for Bodgies and Widgies and don't speak to them' I actually remember her saying that. She also told me that they used to hang around in a deserted train tunnel in the Adelaide Hills, where, as it happens, mushrooms also used to be grown commercially. Mum and I would catch the steam train home from the city sometimes and you'd be able to see the old tunnel as you emerged from the new. I was fascinated by the thought that in the tunnel were lots of naughty Bodgies and Widgies, wearing their black duffle coats, smoking and picking all the mushrooms. Today as I look back, I'm quite sure they weren't busy mushroom picking; more like drinking (alcohol) and well...other stuff.

Last week I went on-line to find out a bit more information about Bodgies and Widgies, as my memory of them is a bit hazy. I discovered that they were a sub-culture that developed in Australia and New Zealand in the'Fifties', much like the Greaser groups in the U.S and U.K. They were inspired by James Dean and adopted his surly, anti-social attitude. They drank, smoked, wore lots of black and played Rock'n'Roll music and probably liked anything else that was considered dodgy in this era. Some rode motor-bikes too and roared around the suburbs on these, upsetting the neighbourhood locals.

Before fridges ( I could almost write BC )that's how long ago it seems).Did you have an ice-chest? We did and one morning, before breafast, I discovered three of my Mum's home-made rissoles sitting on a plate in our ice-chest; a type of forerunner to the refrigerator, just waiting to be eaten. I scoffed all three apparently and deprived my dad of his lunch that day. I guess my Mum found him something else, but I bet he really wanted those rissoles ( these are a type of meat patty). On the subject of rissoles, my Mum used to make the best ones ever. She had one of the old metal mincers that you screwed onto the kitchen table. I used to sit and watch the meat squish through the other side into sort of mince curls. I enjoyed Mum cooking in the kitchen and sometimes I'd help, while Mum listened to a radio serial called Blue Hills. This serial was a precursor to today's Soapies on the telly. Blue Hills had, I think, a really lovely theme tune, which is still very evocative for older Australians today. I imagine that people had withdrawal symptoms when it ended; however it continued for years.

Mum did lots of cooking and on most days I remember her having baked something delicious, either for tea; which in Oz is the evening meal or a snack. Warm, enticing aromas often wafted through the door when I came home  from school. I tried to re-create this pleasure for my own kids as they were growing up. I was fortunate enough to have had part-time or casual jobs, so I was able to do this sometimes. However, cooking or house-work day after day, having not been out anywhere, except maybe to the corner shop, say a quick hello to the neighbours or to the chooks house to collect eggs; I don't know how she did it so constantly. She was amazing, like many stay-at-home Mums.

SteamTrains: Steam trains operated in South Australia until, I think, the late Fifties and possibly even the early Sixties. As a small child I was terrified of them and would hide behind my Mum's back and hang on for dear life. I was convinced somehow that they were going to get me and they looked so intimidating; huge solid black engines puffing and hissing out hot steam and soot. The interiors were very attractive and had tall leather seats with beautifully polished woodwork, including the overhead luggage racks. You could open windows, but on more than one occasion I got soot specks in my eyes, which of course I hated. There's no doubt that the steam trains had loads of character, but when they stopped running, a few were kept for special tours. 

Some years ago my husband and I and two children moved into a house alongside part of the hills railway line (we're still there). On Sunday mornings the Steamranger train choofed past en-route to Victor Harbor, a popular beach-side town about fifty miles south of Adelaide on the Fleurieu peninsula. The tourists on board looked to be having a whale of a time and would wave happily to those who came out of their houses to watchSteamranger pass. At night, when the train returned to Adelaide, you could hear the whistle blowing from several kilometres upline and the pungent smell of coal drifted into the chilly autumn/winter air. The train was only able to operate during the cooler months (usually after the first rains) due to reduce the risk of a spark setting off a fire in the dry summer grasses. We always wanted to take this trip, but it was expensive and time passed and we missed our chance. However, a shorter Steamranger trip was available from Victor Harbor to Goolwa, near South Australia's Murray River mouth. We've taken the kids along on that ride on a number of occasions and great fun it is too, particularly when you catch sight of the sea.

There's so much to recall about the Fifties which I'm aware that most of you won't remember at all, but it's an historical era and is as fascinating as say the Twenties, which I love, especially the clothes, or the Mediaeval period,which is both intriguing and scary.

Next chapter is an Aussie-style 50s Christmas; well, a part of one. 

Up next is 'Have you seen Father Christmas yet?