Mutton Birds, what an odd, seasonal delicacy they were in my 1950s Tasmanian childhood. Oily, salty and yes, with a very strong aroma. 😎 I’m not sure whether I actually liked them, or whether I just enjoyed the novelty of something so different. I had no idea
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A portrait of Senator Jacinta Price almost cost the Library of NSW its CEO. Here is some background. John Vallance was appointed State Librarian of New South Wales in August 2017. His mission was, in his own words to, ‘Turn the Library inside out.’ By this
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In June 1906 the liner Omrah sailed from Australia to Great Britain. Arriving in Plymouth it unloaded what was then called a Tasmanian wolf (A Thylacine) and a Tasmanian devil. It’s a miracle the devil disembarked, as it had escaped its enclosure soon after the ship left
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I have been fascinated by satin bowerbirds for many years, particularly the way the collections of blue ornaments by the adult males reflects our social history. Long gone are the days when blue berries and bird feathers were the favoured items. Most of the treasure these days
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I’ve always wanted a walled garden, with espaliered fruit trees and roses growing against old bricks. Unfortunately this is completely out of my reach. For many years my husband and I owned a holiday lodge on an old estate at Marlow in the UK called Harleyford. Only
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During the formative years of one’s life there is no-one closer than an only sister who is around your own age. My sister Robbie and I were born just 16 months apart (I am the youngest) Until we were eight or nine we even slept in the
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Home made magnolia syrup….what a joy this was to make and how delicious. I used the petals of the beautiful Magnolia stellata, one of earliest trees to flower here in the Blue Mountains. The mauve pink cups of Magnolia Soulangeana would be fine too. Here is a
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When I was growing up in Tasmania (1950s) there were always fresh flowers on the mantelpiece above our open fire in the lounge room. Among those I remember best are carnations, stocks, sweet Williams, dahlias, chrysanthemums and asters, none of which I grow myself, oddly enough. The
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A TRAUMATIC SOUJORN AT FOYERS HOTEL Late one autumn in the early 1970s I started work as downstairs maid and waitress at a run down hotel in the Scottish Highlands. How I came to be there on my own is complicated. I was on a working holiday
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My sister and I spent much of our 1950s childhood in Tasmania as foragers. It wasn’t that we weren’t well fed…. quite the opposite in fact. We lived on a dairy farm and our mother was a wonderful cook. But well, there is something special for children
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