Hello to all fellow Workshop Australians, regardless of whether you were born here, or are a very welcome newcomer.
I'm inspired by @Gramps, to relive our grand history & for others to share.
Clearly, @Gramps is the Heston Bloomfield of Workshop culinary arts, & true to my word, I followed his grilled, deluxe version of the Depression Sanga, & it was a world above what I'd experienced.
Bear with me while I reminisce the years, as a happy-go-lucky kid, brought up in the western suburbs of South Australia (that's a double double gag for informed interstaters, & singlular for local snobs).
Going back to my childhood days (1950 to mid 1970s), we had a local CPS (can't remember what that stood for) store, run by Mr Fuller, a rotund & rosy cheeked cheerful man, who regularly scaled his tall, well trodden wooden steps to his large tin of Arnotts biscuits, to fetch a free broken biscuit, for local kids.
Of note: My first venture to Max as a new homeowner (1975), was for a bottled pint of full cream milk, & a loaf of sliced bread, it cost exactly, 1 folding dollar note.
The local butcher was a block away, an easy walk for a free chunk of Fritz for us kids. Sawdust was strewn on the floor to soak up the day's bloodshed, no-one slipped on it, & insurance companies had it easy. Europeans got free chicken livers & any other delicacy of choice.
Sadly, all the little local shops got suffocated by supermarkets, & went out of business.
Mums had a choice of a 2, or 3 element Adelect stove, & a vertically challenged, primrose coloured Pope fridge that only had room for tray of ice, or if you were lucky, a homemade ice cream in the manual defrost freezer. Birthday parties were held in-house, Mum baked the cake, we kids ran amok outside until we got the call. Open plan living was the back yard.
Toilet paper was gloss, one side more than the other, but neither side was effective.
Mercury was a Planet, & in thermometers, but not fish.
We didn't have scale model Porsche Boxsters, we had cordless, human powered DIY foot steered box carts, no helmets, mouth guards, or a care in the world.
You could ride your bikes to the beach/anywhere, leave unlocked, & they were there for the return home. Mum & Dad didn't know where we were, back then, 'cos we didn't have a home telephone until I was 15.
All kids played sport, were good sports, & learnt naughty words from mates, not from Mums & Dads of today, who scream profanities from the side-lines.
My first job as a trainee, wasn't in a public transport friendly location, but for $300, I scored a 34BHP freedom machine, that took me 3&1/2 years to repay. I could fill the tank of my car for $2, & drive for a fortnight.
Drinking age was 21, pubs closed at 10pm, & 26fl oz of beer was 38 cents.
Smoking was posh, affordable, & had classy packaging.
We got paid in cash, in tiny manilla coloured envelopes. Banks closed at 2:30pm Monday to Thursday, but open till 5:00pm on Fridays.
Time slipped by, & I met the love of my life, things got seriously good, & we tied the knot ('73) after 4&1/2 years of our parent friendly relationship.
The mid 70s was an anxious time, but below average earners could qualify for a cheap State Bank home loan. I remember the day that ours was approved (it took 18 months), we signed the papers, couldn't believe our luck, & raced outside before they could change their mind. I jumped into the arms of the nearest Adelaide CBD corner charity collector, gave him $20, & cartwheeled to our parked car. How good was that? A $15,000 mortgage at 5.2%, & we didn't have to dip into a horrendously expensive 2nd mortgage, because we'd responsibly banked savings in the lead up. An average block of land was $2000, & a flash house was $27,000 including paving.
Furnishings were 2nd hand, carpets were pleasantly cheap, & lino was a must. Tania & I often talk of our leisurely journey, to where we aretoday. Nothing was instant, & need prevailed over want.
Does any of this sound familiar to any of you youngs out there?