The week that was

Ruapehu Bulletin, Volume 10, Issue 467, 21 December 1992, Page 7

The week that was

Raetihi reminiscing, By Ex- Raetihi Resident

Ngaire

James

How I hated Monday mornings! Like Tom Sawyer, I started off by wishing there had never been a weekend. However as the week progressed things improved, they always do.

On winter mornings, after a snowfall, there was never any incentive to motivate oneself as we knew the boys would be waiting at the school bus stop to bombard us with

snowballs. However, the afternoon had its compensation as mothers didn't go to work in those days and we raced home after school to a pot of delicious soup keeping hot on the coal range. Tuesday wasn't too bad as we spent the morning cooking, even if the boys did wait outside the cooking room at lunchtime to rob us of our culinary delights. Sport played an important part in our curriculum and it was always an exciting occasion when our school teams played against Taumarunui High School. We boarded the train in a fever of excitement with the steam engine standing there like some great hissing monster. How well I remember the train stopping at all the small stations on the way - Pokaka, Erua, Oio and Kakahi, all of which have been wiped from the map in recent years. One week day was much the same as the

next with a few chores after school plus homework but Saturday morning, hurrah, the weekend was here again, and it was all go. We each had our set jobs to do, such as scrubbing the kitchen floor, cleaning brass door knobs and silver cutlery, knives too which were not stainless. This was also the time for pressing school uniforms, cleaning shoes and mending stockings. The afternoon was often taken up with school sport and in the summer like water rats, we headed for the river. There was always a magic about the bush and river. Halcyon days, indeed. Sunday mornings the family went to mass like Browns cows. My father left home first, he certainly believed in arriving for the early doors. Mother left next and she travelled at a fast trot. My two sisters and I left last and after much window shopping along the way, invariably arrived late. Gften we had trips into the National park with the local tramping club and how we loved those days out. However, a more mundane Sunday would find us at the cemetery putting flowers on our grandfather's grave. Many graves had a concrete sur- , face but as grandfather's iwas earth, Mother planted freesias over him. One day while we were tidying the grave, I decided to remove every weed and to do a nice neat job to please my mother. Well, the young freesias coming through did look like grass, didn't they! I was as popular as the Tapanui flu. Oh well life was never boring.