Sitting atop a ridge that runs steeply down into a densely wooded valley, there was the constant worry of bushfires storming up and overwhelming the school. This only concerned the parents; the pupils were oblivious. Addicted to orderliness as I am, school was a joy; and I attended this one for two years from 1954 until the middle of 1956, when my younger brother, my mother and I moved up to Denman in the Upper Hunter Valley to rejoin our father and my older brother who had already slaved away up there for 11 months in an endeavour to make the farm liveable: an injunction from our mother.
A number of the faces in this photograph bring flashes to my memory but there are only three girls that I can not only name but also remember. First on the left in the front row is Evelyn Smith, my best friend, who came from a tear-away "naughty" family down Burdett Street near the creek. In the third row, fifth from the left is Elizabeth Fry who is always twinned in my head with Wrigleys Chewing Gum; don't ask why. In the back row, fourth from the right is Barbara (I had her last name when I commenced this post ...), who made up our band of four.
In my second year at school, when I was in 1st Class (as was the nomenclature then), I can remember Miss Sewey being very strict about printing. We only used pencils to write - HB only and nothing softer, children - and Miss Sewey became livid if she could see where the circles for letters like a and o and d joined. No shapes or lines were to be connected with any visible laziness on the page. Contravene this and whoosh ... the ruler would come down over your knuckles as you wrote.
I was tickled pink when we moved to the country so that Dad could follow his dream ... I am the petal with the ribbon holding up the identifying sign - a job I was to have more than once in my life!
A second thought: Count the number of children in this class - what teacher, or parent, would tolerate that nowadays!!