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1950s magazine unearthed: You won't believe the dating advice on “how to get a husband”

<p>A magazine article dating back to 1958 that advises women on how they can attract a potential husband has resurfaced through social media and has quickly gone viral.</p> <p>The piece, which featured in American magazine <em>McCall’</em>s is titled “129 Ways to Get a Husband” and includes a variety of advice on how to do just that. While many find the article hilarious, others have slammed it as sexist and bizarre.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img style="width: 379.68749999999994px; height: 500px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7821731/44225012_2159481040729742_6926440358930808832_n.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/49f154d225ec4d77955c56807a49516d" /></p> <p style="text-align: center;"><em>Photo: Facebook - <a id="js_86p" href="https://www.facebook.com/kim.marxkuczynski?__tn__=%2Cd%2AF%2AF-R&amp;eid=ARDYz95D77BVmKXwesPenDidfCJCPH4Hx2b0E8VdQ4w7dweGrc5Nm3ox37F3gMWauTkB_Zyya899ciJ2&amp;tn-str=%2AF" class="_hli" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000036012261&amp;extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2Cd%2AF%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARDYz95D77BVmKXwesPenDidfCJCPH4Hx2b0E8VdQ4w7dweGrc5Nm3ox37F3gMWauTkB_Zyya899ciJ2%22%2C%22tn-str%22%3A%22%2AF%22%7D" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" aria-describedby="u_84_1" aria-owns="js_86j">Kim Marx-Kuczynski</a></em></p> <p>The list ranges from semi-strange to completely outlandish, with one of the instructions advising women to be flexible when it comes to their potential partner's schedule: “If he decides to skip the dance and go rowing on the lake, GO – even if you are wearing your best evening gown.”</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><iframe src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/post.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fkim.marxkuczynski%2Fposts%2F2146971265314053&amp;width=500" width="500" height="624" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" scrolling="no" frameborder="0" allowtransparency="true" allow="encrypted-media"></iframe></p> <p>Quickly gaining traction, the Facebook post has been shared 13,750 times and has obtained over 4600 likes. The controversy has spread throughout Facebook and users have questioned the motive behind the article.</p> <p>The feature was a collaboration between 16 people and they were chosen specifically for the task due to their “good minds, lively ideas and mature experience".</p> <p>The group came from a diverse background as it included a songwriter, a marriage consultant, an airline stewardess, a police commissioner, a housewife, a banker, a psychologist and a bachelor.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img style="width: 418.75px; height: 500px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7821730/43698308_2146971158647397_4244957925166022656_n.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/a52cfe8d2ad447f79d35d397574588ef" /></p> <p style="text-align: center;"><em>Photo: Facebook - <a id="js_86p" href="https://www.facebook.com/kim.marxkuczynski?__tn__=%2Cd%2AF%2AF-R&amp;eid=ARDYz95D77BVmKXwesPenDidfCJCPH4Hx2b0E8VdQ4w7dweGrc5Nm3ox37F3gMWauTkB_Zyya899ciJ2&amp;tn-str=%2AF" class="_hli" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000036012261&amp;extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2Cd%2AF%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARDYz95D77BVmKXwesPenDidfCJCPH4Hx2b0E8VdQ4w7dweGrc5Nm3ox37F3gMWauTkB_Zyya899ciJ2%22%2C%22tn-str%22%3A%22%2AF%22%7D" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" aria-describedby="u_84_1" aria-owns="js_86j">Kim Marx-Kuczynski</a></em></p> <p>One of the sections titled “How to let him know you’re there”, informed women of men being attracted to material items, and recommended readers to buy objects to garner their attention.</p> <p>“Buy a convertible – men like to ride in them,” said number 43.</p> <p>“Stumble when you walk into a room that he's in. Wear a band aid, people always ask what happened.”</p> <p>A user on Facebook commented how number 40 was her favourite piece of advice as it told girls to “stand in a corner and cry softly” so a man can approach you and ask what’s wrong.</p> <p>Other strategies were far more blunt, with one saying, “Make a lot of money.”</p> <p>And no listicle on how to get yourself a husband would be complete without a guide informing you on how to make yourself attractive.</p> <p>The “How to look good” section had a few things to say when it came to how women present themselves.</p> <p>“Get better-looking glasses – men still make passes at girls who wear glasses, or you could try contact lenses,” said number 49.</p> <p>“Wear high heels most of the time – they’re sexier! Unless he happens to be shorter than you.”</p> <p>Other suggestions included going on a diet “if you need to” and making yourself stand out from a crowd by dressing differently than other women.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img style="width: 500px; height: 423.43750000000006px;" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7821729/43554515_2146971021980744_2357359153359355904_n.jpg" alt="" data-udi="umb://media/de4da15e8c794318b06fad52ca58ca15" /></p> <p style="text-align: center;"><em>Photo: Facebook - <a id="js_86p" href="https://www.facebook.com/kim.marxkuczynski?__tn__=%2Cd%2AF%2AF-R&amp;eid=ARDYz95D77BVmKXwesPenDidfCJCPH4Hx2b0E8VdQ4w7dweGrc5Nm3ox37F3gMWauTkB_Zyya899ciJ2&amp;tn-str=%2AF" class="_hli" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000036012261&amp;extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2Cd%2AF%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARDYz95D77BVmKXwesPenDidfCJCPH4Hx2b0E8VdQ4w7dweGrc5Nm3ox37F3gMWauTkB_Zyya899ciJ2%22%2C%22tn-str%22%3A%22%2AF%22%7D" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" aria-describedby="u_84_1" aria-owns="js_86j">Kim Marx-Kuczynski</a></em></p> <p>And if you’re someone who just can’t seem to find a single man, then according to the writers, buying a dog and taking it for a walk will help you come across one.</p> <p>But if that doesn’t work then don’t fear, as the list also included: “Looking in the census reports for places with the most single men”, having your car break down in certain locations, working as a doctor, dentist or lawyer so you can be around educated, rich men, and reading obituaries to find widowers.</p> <p>To finish off the ridiculous article, the final section was titled “How to land him".</p> <p>From chatting to your date’s father about business or researching his exes to avoid “repeating the mistakes they made”, the advice just kept getting more and more bizarre.</p> <p>The vintage article gathered a lot of mixed reactions on Facebook with one saying, “In this day and age it looks more like a manual of how to get kidnapped!”</p> <p>“So, apparently, I’m doing a LOT wrong, is that why I don’t have a husband?!” questioned one woman jokingly.</p> <p>Others wondered if the story was real or was it written as satire, while others joked saying they had “been doing it wrong for years".</p> <p>“Thank God for the women’s movement!” said one user.</p> <p>“Wow – finding a man is not for the faint of heart!” wrote another.</p> <p>What do you think of this dating advice from the 1950s? Let us know in the comments below.</p>

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Growing up on a farm in 1950’s Australia

<p><em>Missed the first part of the “Growing up on a farm in 1950’s Australia”? Read <a href="https://www.oversixty.com.au/lifestyle/family-pets/2018/02/growing-up-on-a-farm-in-1950s-australia/" target="_blank"><strong><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Chapter 1: Aussie Summers – 1950s</span></strong></a>. </em></p> <p align="center"><strong>Chapter 2: Aussie Winters – 1950s</strong></p> <p>Now retired, as I reflect on my life thus far, the ‘50s were without doubt the most enjoyable. I was happy and had great family and friends. We lived on a farm, what more could I want?</p> <p align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Lambing time</span></p> <p>We heard the heavy rain falling on the roof.</p> <p>Dad looked happy and said to Mum “Just what we need to make the grass grow for the ewes.” The weather was still fairly warm, but the days were getting shorter.</p> <p>I love lambing time.</p> <p>I go out every day with Dad, if I get the chance, to see the ewes and lambs and to make sure that everything is OK which it normally is. It is great fun to see the lambs running around together with their tails in the air playing “chasey”.</p> <p>Sometimes though, we have to bring a lamb home to look after it, if their mums can’t feed it properly. Our Mum would mix up warm milk in a bottle. Then it was fun to feed them, as they wagged their cute little tails.</p> <p>When they got bigger, Dad put them out with the other sheep. They still loved to come over for lots of pats every-time they saw us.</p> <p>The first ewe (girl) lamb was always called Sally and the ram (boy) lamb was called Jimmy. I don’t know why, it’s just how it was. Any other lambs, my sister Claire and I got to choose their names.</p> <p>As Dad and me drove around the paddocks, sometimes Dad would see a dead lamb, and would say “Darn foxes”. Then he and some of our friends would go out on a dark night to try and shoot foxes.</p> <p>After all the ewes had had their babies, Dad would bring them into the sheep yards. It would take a long time with lots of noise ‘cause sometimes the Mum’s and their babies could not find each other and cry out for each other. Then Dad, with the help of us kids would sort out the babies from their Mum’s, and then they REALLY made lots of noise as they tried to get back to each other.</p> <p>After that, my brother Robin would catch them one at time while Dad put a round green thing around something stopped the ram lambs from making babies. Then with a really sharp knife, Dad would cut off their tails. Then Robin would let them go and they would run flat out crying all the way back to their Mum’s.</p> <p align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Shearing time</span></p> <p>The other job I really loved at the end of winter was shearing time. Most times we had two men who were local farming friends that shore the sheep for us.</p> <p>I loved the smell of the wool and the sheep. Before and after school I really enjoyed helping. It was my job to sweep any bits of wool left over after each sheep was shorn and Dad had picked up the fleece. I always thought I did a good job, ‘though sometimes I probably got in the way a bit.</p> <p>Sometimes one of the shearers as he was going to get another sheep, would pretend to grab me and say “Time for a hair-cut” and I would laugh but run pretty quick back to Dad or Robin ‘cause I thought he was joking but I wasn’t sure.</p> <p>After we had finished for the day, I would help fill the shed with more sheep ready for the next day.</p> <p align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Tractors</span></p> <p>After it had rained, Dad would spend lots of days driving a tractor, pulling something that had “things” that dug up the ground. Dad would try to drive it in a really straight line. Sometimes there would be a tree in the way, so he had to drive around it. I thought Dad was pretty clever ‘cause he always got real close to the tree, but never hit it.</p> <p>I loved to sit on the green and yellow (John Deere) tractor with Dad.</p> <p>When I was little, the tractor was brand new and it looked all bright and shiny and smelt great.</p> <p style="text-align: center;"><img width="499" height="315" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/7268645/growing-up-on-a-farm-in-text-image_499x315.jpg" alt="Growing Up On A Farm In Text Image"/></p> <p>After a day at school, I would ride my bike flat out to our house, and yell out to Mum, “Which paddock is Dad was in”? Then I would change into my old clothes making sure I was warm ‘cause the weather was cold and sometimes wet. Then I would rush to where Dad was and sit with him until it was dark and then I would ride my bike home again. Dad usually came home much later.</p> <p>When I got a bit older and Robin had left school, Dad brought another green and yellow tractor for him to drive. I liked to be with Dad but Robin was better and more fun. Robin liked to sing a lot, and some people seemed to think he was pretty good. He sang in a choir (whatever that meant) so he liked to practice while he was driving the tractor and I thought he was so clever ‘cause he could sing AND drive the tractor in a straight line at the same time.</p> <p>Sometimes he liked to “show off” by doing all that while he was driving standing up…wow!</p> <p>Sometimes Dad would drive pulling something else that Robin sat on. It had kinda bins with lids that lifted up that they poured stuff into. Sometimes they would stop by the truck that had bags on them and carry them over. When I got a bit bigger I could carry them as well, but they were REALLY heavy. While Dad was driving, Robin would tip the stuff out of the bags into the bins, and I thought he was so clever. Then we would just sit and talk.</p> <p>Most times it was really, really cold and we would put the empty bags over us to keep out the wind and rain.</p> <p>When I got a bit older, I asked Robin what we were doing and he told me we were “Seeding, planting the grain (wheat or barley) with the fertiliser, to make it grow”.</p> <p align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Passing time in winter</span></p> <p>On one side of the farm, we had a dirt road and ‘cause it was a road between two district councils (whatever that meant), nobody looked after it so it became like a fairly narrow track in places with a few trees. It was known as the Boundary Road.</p> <p>One day when I was about 6, and Robin was about 15, somehow he was driving the Land-Rover with just me with him. We ended up on the Boundary Road. It had lately been raining lots. Robin was driving real fast probably ‘cause he wanted to “show off” when suddenly we struck a real slippery patch, and he lost control. The Land-Rover did a full circle.</p> <p>Lucky we did not hit a tree or a fence post and damage the Land-Rover, or hurt ourselves. Robin went real quiet but I thought it was funny. He drove real slow back to the house after that and made me promise not to tell Mum and Dad ‘cause he knew they would be cross with him, but it wasn’t my fault.</p> <p>The other thing we did during winter time was play table-tennis. Our team was Reeves Plains and we used to play against a lot of local teams. When we played our home matches it was always in our barn, and was great fun.</p> <p>The barn was where we stored the seed wheat, barley and fertiliser. Being really little I thought the barn was a long way from the house (it was probably about 50 metres) and even with the outside lights turned on at the house and the barn, there was lots of dark places. There were sheds both sides with trees, and sometimes the branches would make a noise on the roof of the shed and I would get scared and run flat out if I was by myself. I never told anybody ‘cause I didn’t want them to think I was a baby.</p> <p>When I first started to play I was only little and couldn’t reach very far, so I used to stand on a box. I always thought I was pretty good.</p> <p>Often I used to pester Robin for a hit and try my new fancy trick shots and thought I could beat him. I never did, but sometimes I got close. Maybe he just let me. He was the second best player in the WHOLE district so I was dreaming if I thought I was ever going to beat him. Dad was really good, and Mum was fairly good too. Claire didn’t seem to like playing very much and was no competition for someone like me.</p> <p align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Starting school</span></p> <p>When I was a bit older than five, I started going to school. Most days, Claire and I used to read our bikes on the dirt road, about two miles.</p> <p>One day she wouldn’t wait for me so I went too fast trying to catch up and fell off grazing my knee. Claire asked if I wanted to go home so Mum could clean it up, but I didn’t want the kids at school, especially the three other boys in my class to think I was a baby by having a plaster on it, so I said “No”.</p> <p>For the first three years before she went off to college in Adelaide, it was kinda nice to have Claire around, in case I got into trouble.</p> <p>I loved Primary School and was always the smartest kid in my class. It was also great to play with all my friends.</p> <p>The toilets seemed a long way away from the class-room. At least they did when I was little. They were in amongst the Pepper Trees and made of galvanised iron. As I went into them, there was a long trough thing to pee into that was always surrounded by spider webs. If I wanted to do “two’s” I went through a door. When lifting the lid I had to be careful not to sit on a Redback Spider, ‘cause I knew they would bite. When I lifted the seat it was a long drop and looked disgusting so I only used it if I was busting. I was always afraid I might fall in.</p> <p align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">Dealing with kangaroos</span></p> <p>During most winter’s Dad and some friends would “go bush” for about a week. Sometimes there were lots of kangaroos on the outback stations, so they would go up and shoot them, ‘cause the kangaroos ate all the grass the cattle were ‘spose to eat.</p> <p>When I was about 10, people like Dad were stopped from doing that. Sometimes when a kangaroo was shot, without Dad knowing it, they had a baby (joey) in their pouch.</p> <p>Every time Dad went away Claire and I would always hope Dad would come with one. One year, when I was about five, Dad came home with three of them.</p> <p>The boy ones were brown in colour and the girls were blue. They were the most amazing, cute, gentlest, beautiful pets we EVER had. When they were really little they used to sleep in an empty wheat bag, hanging against the hot water thing to keep them warm. When it was feed time Mum or Dad would gently get them down and tip them out so Claire and me could feed them.</p> <p>They would try to grab the bottle with their cute little front legs as we fed them. We had to be careful they did not slip on the lino floor. Their fur was so lovely and soft.</p> <p>When they got a bit bigger we used to take them outside and they used to hop after us, and they looked adorable. By that stage they slept outside in a small yard close to the house Dad made for them. After that they spent the rest of the day and their lives in a really big yard, and one year one had a baby, but that’s another story.</p> <p align="center"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">The Royal Adelaide Show</span></p> <p>At the end of winter was time for the 10-day Royal Adelaide Show.</p> <p>On the Monday morning, the whole family would rush down to see the Merino Sheep judging to see Uncle “Henry” and his family with their stud sheep. I loved all the sights, smells and excitement of all the sheep and lots of people.</p> <p>Uncle Henry always did really well and won lots of cups, medals and sashes with his sheep.</p> <p>It was a great, fun day out, ‘cause after that we would spend the rest of the day looking at all the animals, and side-shows. After that, we had to see all the stuff the adults wanted to look at, which was a bit boring for us kids.</p> <p>Usually we had lunch with other aunts, uncles and cousins so it was always a fun day out.</p> <p>Yes, winter in the ‘50s took some beating, with so many great things to do.</p>

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Reminiscing on my childhood in 1950’s Australia

<p><em><strong>Rosalie Busch, 71, recently retired from her job as a School Services Officer in South Australia. She’s married with two children. She enjoys live theatre, reading and travel.</strong></em></p> <p>When I was five or six years old my mother sent me off to join Bjelke Petersen’s School of Physical Culture (Physie as it is more commonly known) because, she believed, as there was every indication that I was going to be tall, it would benefit my posture as I grew and prevent me from becoming ‘round-shouldered’ (her words).</p> <p align="center"><img width="170" height="260" src="https://oversixtydev.blob.core.windows.net/media/43399/3.jpg" alt="3 (11)"/></p> <p align="center"><em>This young physie girl was obviously a ‘Champion Girl’ and is wearing a similar outfit to the one I wore.</em></p> <p>The program was a mixture of gymnastics and dance and I really enjoyed it. I continued to attend well into my teen years.</p> <p>There were competitions held and an end of year concert.</p> <p>When I was nine I won ‘Champion Girl’ for our district. I was overwhelmed and still don’t know how my legs carried me onto the stage to receive my medal. That was the only time mum and dad were not able to attend one of these events.  Mixed feelings all around! I still have the medal.</p> <p>My greatest desire was to learn classical ballet but my mother informed me my height was against me there so I bowed to her wishes or rather never discussed or argued the matter.</p> <p>As time went by more houses appeared in our street.</p> <p>I became friendly with the neighbours opposite our house and, in particular, with their eldest daughter. She was one for pressing her parents’ buttons and was always in trouble. However, we liked each other and spent a bit of time together during school holidays (she did not go to the same school as I did).</p> <p>Next to our property was a vacant block which had not been cleared and was overgrown with tea-tree. One summer my friend decided we should build a cubby-house in the tea-tree, take some bread with us and make toast. She secured the matches, I supplied the bread, and of course you can guess what happened next.  I will never forget my mother’s face as she held the garden hose over the fence while waiting for the fire-brigade to arrive.</p> <p>Both my friend and I made a hasty retreat. She hid under her house and I was sobbing so much I don’t think Mum could bring herself to reprimand me too severely. Thankfully the house and the fence were not touched and my friend was grounded for some time. I was not.</p> <p>Summer holidays was also a time for pumping up the bicycle tyres, attaching a basket, grabbing sandwiches and soft drink and disappearing for the day with parting words from Mum – “be home before it gets dark”.  Wow, such freedom and what adventures we had!</p> <p>Saturday afternoons were often spent either watching my father play cricket (summer) or watching my brother play soccer (winter).  It wasn’t a ‘chore’ for me because I always enjoyed being a spectator, especially when family was involved. I didn’t participate in a sport myself until I was at high school although I was always a keen swimmer.</p> <p>My father had a lovely singing voice. Most nights, while sharing the washing and drying of dishes we would harmonise, singing songs Dad taught me from the war years. I loved that time together and I can still retrieve some of those old melodies – if called upon to do so – but I really don’t think that will happen!</p> <p>It was some years before Dad was given a company car. Up until that time he caught a train to work each day (not really a hardship) and when we visited our grandparents it was a journey which necessitated catching two buses. Both sets of grandparents lived in Five Dock, a suburb closer to the city and about 13 km from our home.</p> <p>Having a car meant we could journey further afield and I remember on many a hot day mum would pack a picnic tea and when Dad arrived home from work we would depart for Manly Beach. Along with a whole pile of Sydneysiders, we would eat our tea on the grass under the pines and swim for hours, never wanting to return to the heat of our house.</p> <p>Mum always made sure Christmas lunch was traditionally English in keeping with her heritage. A roast dinner, plum pudding (containing threepences) with brandy sauce and fruit mince pies was the order of the day. Both sets of grandparents and a close Aunt and cousin joined us at our Christmas table each year.</p> <p>The weekend preceding Christmas we would make the journey to our family at Woodford in the Blue Mountains. We enjoyed an early Christmas with my Uncle (mum’s brother), Aunt and three cousins. After lunch Dad and my Uncle would venture into the bush to find our pine Christmas tree which we loaded onto our car for the journey home. I can’t remember the time in my life when this tradition ceased but I do remember the fresh pine smell throughout the house for quite a few Christmases.</p> <p>Even though money was in short supply in our younger years, my brother and I always received Christmas gifts which had been on our Santa list. Whether it be a doll and cradle or Davey Crocket hat and meccano set, somehow they made it under our tree.                               </p> <p>Davey Crocket was a 19th Century American hero referred to as “King of the Wild Frontier”.  My brother was a big fan and when replicas of the hat he wore hit the stores he had to have one!</p> <p>I can remember hanging the billy-can on the front fence for the milkman who would fill the can from a vat in his van and chasing the baker’s cart up the street to get the fresh bread – which was still warm – before it was delivered to our home so we could tear some of the bread out of the middle of the loaf. Delicious!</p> <p>And then there was the ‘Sani’ Man (Sanitation). I can’t remember how many times per week he came but he was the person who took away our full toilet pans and delivered fresh ones. Sewerage had not been connected to our area and we had the traditional ‘outhouse’. Mum used to leave a ten-shilling note on the toilet seat for our Sani man every Christmas.  We very rarely got to see him – he usually came in the early hours (which was probably a good thing!). Sewerage was finally connected not long after we moved into the house. Such luxury!</p> <p>The ‘garbos’ were a very athletic lot. Their huge clanking truck, which could be heard for miles, carried men who would jump off the truck, grab a bin, run back to the truck and empty the contents into the truck, replace the bin and continue on this path down every street. They must have been the fittest people on the planet!</p> <p>Another regular visitor was the Ice Man. Refrigerators were available in the 1950’s but were not cheap. Too expensive for us and for many families at that time, we kept our perishables cold in an ice chest. The ice man would arrive carrying a huge block of ice on his shoulder (his shoulder was protected from the</p> <p>cold by a large piece of leather) and it was placed in the side compartment of the wooden upright chest. As the ice melted water drained down the back of the chest into a tray underneath. Mum (or Dad) would slide out the tray and empty the water every so often. I can’t remember how often the Ice Man made his delivery but I’m guessing it would have been more often during the summer months. Great celebrations the day we were able to purchase our one door, Kelvinator refrigerator!</p> <p>At the end of every week day when Dad was still ‘training’ it to work, we would wait at the top of our driveway to see him turn the corner after his 3-mile walk (almost 5 km) home from the railway station. He always carried the evening newspaper under his arm and one particular day I remember him opening the paper where the front page read “WAR” which was in reference to the Suez Canal crisis. At the time, I did not understand what this all meant but seeing that one word did scare me.</p> <p>I think it scared mum and dad too and many others like them as WW2 was still very fresh in their minds.</p> <p>In a nutshell, anger erupted in 1956 when the Egyptian president announced that the canal was to be nationalised. The canal had been owned by the Suez Canal Company which was controlled by British and French interests. Fearing that petroleum shipments from the Persian Gulf to Western Europe would be cut off, troops were sent in. Israel also had a beef with Egypt and they also entered the debacle. However, Anglo-French troops and Israeli troops withdrew a few months later with the threat of possible Soviet intervention.</p> <p>Everyone’s childhood holds special memories, and there are memories that are not so special, but I think it is better to reminisce about the good times. I know there were many in my childhood.  One word which comes to mind when describing this time in my life is, I think, ‘uncluttered’.</p> <p>The year I turned twelve I started High School and that, my friends, is another story for another day.</p> <p><em>You can read part one of Rosalie’s childhood memories series <a href="http://www.oversixty.com.au/lifestyle/family-pets/2017/09/rosalie-busch-reminiscing-on-childhood-part-1/" target="_blank"><strong><span style="text-decoration: underline;">here</span></strong></a>. </em></p>

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