Eggs Gilhooley

Eggs Gilhooley All residents of our house believed in a good hearty breakfast to sustain us through a busy day. In winter it was generally rolled oats cooked in a two-pot blue boiler, with hot water in the bottom pot, to heat the rolled oats in the top without burning them. At the weekend when things were more relaxed and we weren't rushed to get to work, we often had scrambled eggs on toast. Six eggs were beaten with a small amount of milk and tipped into a pan with hot melted butter so they would sizzle when they hit the butter. Mum's theory was the heat had to be high so the eggs would be browned on the bottom, not come out insipid and custardly, because we had a day’s surfing in front of us, and we needed loads of energy to crack the big one.
 Mum was talented – she could read a book, while knitting a sweater, generally a fairisle: two for Billy, one for Harry, one for Ken, two for Tim, one for Josh and one for Guy and another for George while having a glass of wine; it’s called multi-tasking now, but in the 1950's it was normal living.
 Mum was a keen reader. She had a book list she wanted to read, when heading for the library, and subscribed to the Observer. One of my jobs was to call at Fiorelli's in Surry Hills to collect a demijohn of red wine, which I helped my stepfather Bill decant into a dozen bottles. This wine was used in some of Mum's cooking – casseroles and spaghetti sauce, but not in the potato pie. It also helped to stimulate conversation at dinner!!
 Bill was a keen sailor; as a schoolboy he would sail on Sydney Harbour. He joined the navy when war broke out and spent time in England acquiring valuable information, which he passed on to us. When in London purchase Wild Woodbine cigarettes and light them on the Eternal flame. While in port in Simonstown, South Africa, Bill took up the local language, Negs vor Blanks, Alli stations neer Capstad, while riding the rail to Capetown.
 Bill was one of the crew of Query the 12 foot skiff that won the Australian championship on the Brisbane River; the other members were Harry the for’ard hand and Colin the skipper. All these sailors and their mates enjoyed keg parties, which occasionally took place in our kitchen. There was a nine-gallon wooden keg, placed on our sturdy kitchen table ready for the main performance of the night: punching the tap in! This could only be performed by a skilled operator, as a faulty insertion resulted in beer gushing out the side of the tap and being lost on the floor – very sad experience to keen beer drinkers.
There was generally some music and song, with Harry playing the guitar and Bill on the piano accordion, rendering old sea shanties and other bawdy songs – ‘My Old Man's a Dustman’. Bill was also skilled with his bosun’s whistle, on which he would give appropriate calls for naval procedures like ‘coming along side’. Among the guests were some very keen beer drinkers including Skinny who would remark if the drinking slowed down ‘Youse will never drink it’ which was akin to failure of this drinking team.
 Guests included Dorothy, John and Roma, Ross and Wendy, Louie and Nan. Louie was quite a character, with very Italian features, dark wavy hair, stocky build, slightly bent nose, and a nasal voice, with a great sense of humour and a volume of funny stories. He also operated as SP booker, besides having a day job. After the war there was a demand for betting, before Tab Corp set up. This was generally done by SP bookmakers operating out of local pubs, or in back lanes away from police view, as it was illegal.
 Louie's work commenced with donning his grey dust coat, getting into the van and doing deliveries for the local flying-boat base. But he  had an Sp betting agency on the side.So come Monday he would have to visit his clients and "Settle Up "after Saturdays racing.He generally carried a roll of notes you could'nt jump over.
Some of this money went to house renovations and paying me to help paint his house.
 . For recreation what did this group do in winter on a Sunday ? They went sailing, not in a12 skiff but a large 30 foot yacht, loaded up with a staple diet of beer, meat for a barbecue and salads, plus a little wine for appreciation. Depending on weather conditions, all sailors know you must check the forecast, observe the sky and the breeze, consider the tide and then consult with the skipper Ross as to their chosen destination. There was a fine choice of intimate beaches for swimming, picnicking and all round fun; these included, Stores Beach, Forty Baskets, Reef Beach, Castle Rock, Chowder Bay, and their favourite: Cobblers Beach, because it faced north and was protected from southerly winds. By Grainfed grandfather Tim
























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