Writing this blog has been a good exercise for the old brain. I have been remembering things that I haven't thought about in years, which is actually good fun. I had a lovely childhood so remembering all these details is a great pleasure.
Today I went shopping at the Tuggeranong Hyperdome where I used my senior's card at the chemist ( so I must be old!) but I also visited Woolworths which was where I started thinking about shopping in the 50's. I'll be writing about various retail outlets we used to visit in future blogs, but today I'll be talking about the 'local' shops at which my mother made most of her purchases.
Half way between Mosman Wharf and Mosman Junction on Avenue Road was a small group of shops. There was a petrol station, a newsagent, a butcher, a grocer and a greengrocer.
We didn't have a car until I was about 10 so the service station meant little to me in the early days.
I didn't have much to do with the newsagency either when I was really little (my father used to buy the Daily Telegraph on his way home from work and I always read the comics) but when I was at primary school I was allowed to buy myself a magazine. It was called 'Judy' and was a special order kept behind the counter and eagerly awaited by me every week.
Next was the butcher, Mr Bolton. His shop was all white tiles with a red sawdust covered floor in which I would draw patterns while he prepared my mother's order. He had a bit of a display in white enamel trays in his window, but most cuts would be prepared while you waited. He would lug great chunks of beef or lamb out of his coolroom and chop up whatever you required and then lug the rest of the chunk back into the coolroom. He was very slim and refined looking and his whites were always spotless - my mother was always impressed.
Mr McClure's grocery shop came next. We didn't have to buy too much there because he delivered the groceries every week. My mother would ring up and order and within a few hours there it would be on the bench in the kitchen. There wasn't much of a choice, butter was Allowrie butter, flour came in a brown paper bag, eggs came in a carton and were all colours and sizes. There were a few brands of tea but we always had 'Lanchoo' ( does that still exist?). Toilet paper wasn't anything like the bottom pampering softness that is available now, but it did the job, all be it with a lot less comfort.
Mr McClure's shop was long and dark with shelves up to the high ceiling and had a large wooden counter behind which the customers would stand. He had a couple of assistants who would shimmy up ladders to get down items that were on the higher shelves. I found his shop fascinating and particularly coveted a miniature display of Coca Cola bottles in their wooden crate that he had in the window.
The Italian greengrocer we all called Mr Morrissey had the next shop. I'm sure that wasn't his real name but in those days people couldn't cope with any sort of foreign names, so near enough was good enough. Mrs Morrissey also worked in the shop when she wasn't looking after her huge brood of children. She was a very large lady and he was very small - they reminded me of Jack Sprat and his wife.
My mother never liked being served by Mrs Morrissey because we would always end up getting a bruised piece of fruit or a squishy tomato in the order. Customers were not allowed to handle the produce in those days, it would be weighed and then wrapped in newspaper or put in paper bags by the proprietors.
Mr Morrissey introduced us to avocados. "How do you prepare them?" my mother asked and was told you use them as a spread on toast, so that's what we did for years. Many years later we had avocado seafood for the first time - what a revelation and how exotic, we thought. Fancy being able to do that with an avocado!
Purchases safely tucked in baskets or string bags my mother and I would walk home which was downhill from the shops. We knew the shopkeepers by name and they knew ours'. Going to the shops was always a pleasurable and social experience.
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