by Pat Ritter
grandfather passed away before I was born. He and my grandmother lived at the flat in Spring Hill when he died. She remained living there. When one considers the perfect tenant, one must take into consideration the time spent in the residence and making payments.
My grandmother lived at the same flat in Spring Hill Brisbane for thirty-five years. Obviously the rent rose from the time she first arrived to when she finally departed. Each week she paid the rent on time plus the electricity and gas even after she became a widow. She was the perfect tenant.
My memory living with her still remains in my mind. I still smell the gas from the stove, pungent odour. Her cooking on a small gas stove, one of those you placed a shilling coin into the slot of the meter to use the gas. If children were near, her voice still echoes in my head. 'Get outside. Children should be seen and not heard.' She repeated this saying over and over until we never came near adults while they were speaking.
One fond memory, each Saturday afternoon she allowed my sisters and I to play records on her record player in her bedroom. This became a joy to be allowed to use her player and listen to the latest music. Another fond memory when she took us shopping with her to the city. We'd walk with her from her home to the major shops to enjoy the crowds, eat at a canteen and walk home.
She always had visitors. My aunt lived a couple of doors away and she often visited her mother and talk over an afternoon cup-of-tea. Unfortunately my aunt was an alcoholic and needed to have extra tonic in her cup to mix with her tea. They'd argue about two flies crawling up the wall, or more than not two cockroaches scooting across the floor.
I attended the local school which my father and uncles also attended in their earlier days. A teacher who taught my father and his brothers still taught at the school. As soon as my name was mentioned, an instant dislike became apparent between the two of us. He reminded me on more than one occasion how similar I behaved to my father and uncles thus I received the cane for deeds I didn't think I deserved. It was living in hell until I left when my parents purchased a house.
My grandmother always cooked. Around the kitchen table we sat not saying a word whilst the adults chatted about their day. As soon as dinner was finished my grandmother bellowed for us to take a bath and go to bed. Confused because it was five o'clock in the afternoon and still light.
Eventually my family moved from my grandmother's flat in Spring Hill to a suburb in western Brisbane. My grandmother remained at Spring Hill. Off and on over the next decade I seldom visited her and each time found my time with her to be difficult. It was always with my family and she never wanted to have much to do with her grandchildren, especially me for reasons I couldn't explain.
Word count: 709
The Tables Were Turned
Control freaks of this world annoy the crap out of me. Why do others need to take control to always get what they want? If things don't go their way, then all hell breaks loose. Needless to say everything worked for and achieved, I've done myself.
Don't worry, I'm not an angel in disguise. When the tables were turned when confronted by a control freak, I sink to the background and keep out of sight. All through my life confrontation of any type especially when it stems from an authoritative figure displeases me. I'd shudder down to my boots when I became confronted for anything blameless. More times than not I became the innocent party.
I remember one incident most clearly. At the time I established 'Crimestoppers' for Queensland Police. My role to establish this programme within three weeks. At the time the programme became a political football because of the 'Fitzgerald Inquiry' being conducted on Queensland Police Force into official corruption.
Crimestoppers had nothing to do with this inquiry however the Police Minister at the time thought Crimestoppers would be a good bargaining tool to gain points on their opposition. As it turned out the act by The Minister became fruitless because the opposition won the next election.
My role to establish Crimestoppers placed me in a position of autonomy, 'to get the job done'. Actually I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. To be given this task after twenty years of continued service became a blessing in disguise. In my mind I could do it. In my heart everything would turn out right.
Instead of my workday being eight hours this expanded to at times eighteen hours 'to get the job done' on time and delivered. Every skill I learned over the twenty years joined together into a funnel of hope. Within three weeks everything worked as required.
My major role to write computer programmes, select staff, train, implement programmes through television, news print and radio. When I think back to the time July 1989 computer software hardly existed. Don't ask me how, but everything worked.
By the final day before the official launch exhaustion overtook my body and mind. I needed a rest. I'll never forget one of my staff the morning after the official launch wanted to speak with me about something important. We sat in our tea room and whilst having morning tea she shared with me probably the most important news I never wanted to hear. She told me I'd become a treat to our superior officer now with the programme completed. I'd be asked to leave.
When confronted about this information I thought back since the period I started the programme and thought, no-one asked me what I'm doing. I went ahead and did what I thought proper. Is this information true. Is there a dagger sticking out of my back? I thanked the officer for her information and thought nothing more about her comments.
Within a week I appeared before my superior officer and told in no uncertain terms my tender terminated and to leave forthwith. Her information correct. The knife driven into my back, twisted and blood flowed down my legs. What could I do? Absolutely nothing. I packed my office equipment, said farewell to my staff and thanked them for their valuable work and left never to return.
At the time I never understood about 'control freaks' however this became my introduction to these individuals who want to control everything with their hold on control. Since personally experiencing this act of 'control freak' there's nothing to defend against this type of individual. I treat everyone how I want to be treated myself with dignity and honesty. Not to be controlled.
Certainly the tables were turned in this incident, but I'll never forget being told before I left, you did the best you could've done under the circumstances. It's a long hard road without any turns with the destination never known where this road is going to take you. These words still remain in my mind. I'm a believer in fate and destiny. Things are sent to try us with lessons learned to make us a stronger person and live another day. I certainly learn and continue to learn each step to reach the end of this winding road and much more to learn thanks to the table being turned.
Word count:737
The Watch – The Favour – The Very Big Fish
My grandmother became the dearest person to my heart during my childhood. Anytime I wanted her advice, she gave it. We became close. I trusted her more than anyone else on earth.
On my twelfth birthday she told me when I turned twenty-one years old she would present me with a gift of my grandfather’s gold watch. My grandfather had fought in World War 1 in France. She showed me the watch many times and I couldn’t wait for the time I received it.
My cousin Danny, who reached his twenty-first birthday two years before I did became a conscripted soldier and sent to Vietnam War. On his departure my grandmother presented him with my grandfather’s gold watch which she promised to me.
At the time Danny should’ve been entitled to the watch before me because he not only represented his country and fought overseas, he was the eldest grandchild. He did me the greatest favour by receiving the watch before departure.
After the war Danny returned home and life went on and the watch never mentioned again in our family or between my grandmother and me. I didn’t feel any jealousy nor did I resent Danny receiving the watch, perhaps it may have been a good luck totem whilst he served in Vietnam. Let’s hope so!
Many years later I became an author beginning
my journey late in life at aged thirty-five. Little did I know where this journey would lead me and moreso how would I realise writing became my good luck totem.
After my grandmother passed on I decided to write her story for the sake of the family to keep her memory alive. Speaking with my aunts, one particularly took an interest and shared information when my grandmother was ten years old she won a writing competition.
This information sent alarm bells off in my mind. I love to write but always I asked a question, ‘where did this writing gene come from’? Obviously this gene had been handed down from my grandmother who won a writing competition when she was ten years old.
With this information on hand I considered to be the luckiest person on earth to receive this gift from my grandmother. This gift provided me with a feeling of ‘catching the very big fish’ in life.
Word count:395
The World Is My Oyster
At first I didn’t realise how important this information from my English school teacher would have a profound bearing on my life. Mr Imoff told me, ‘you have a gift for writing. You write the way you speak which is unique’. At the time fourteen years old, the bells and whistles didn’t go off in my mind.
Jump forward twenty years when another teacher