I spend some time every day picking flowers for the house. Of course I use the word flowers in the loosest sense, it could be bunches of autumn leaves or native grasses. I have always longed to have a flower preparation room, as opposed to using the
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At Christmas 1908 an article appeared in the Australian Weekly Times urging women to properly identify their dress baskets when travelling by rail. It gave an example of two women who failed to mark their baskets. They were travelling on the same train to Melbourne; one bound
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‘Everything we keep, we must use’. This has been the catchphrase as my partner Rob and I settle into our new home. Although we have given away a vast amount of our possessions on the local community site, we still have lots of inherited family antiques, and
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When my sister and I were very young we each had a little elephant brooch, which we wore on our winter overcoats. I don’t remember wearing brooches again for over 50 years, as they slipped out of fashion in the ‘swinging sixties’. We has badges for school,
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Cash is dead… well on its knees anyway, especially change lower in value than a 50 cent piece. Like most people I now pay for almost everything with my credit card. Nevertheless, my partner Rob and I have accumulated dozens of two bob bits (20 cent pieces).
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Jersey cows made up our first dairy herd when we moved to our farm outside Ulverstone (Tasmania) in 1952. Here are some of them, grazing in the paddock behind my sister Robbie and our dog Laddie, circa 1959. It was Laddie’s job to bring them into the
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I read something disquieting about Easter buns the other day. Of course I knew the paste cross represents the crucifixion, but this article stated that the traditional spices in the recipe recall those used during the embalming of Christ’s body. And another thing, the bitter peel in
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Laddie is the dog that shared my Tasmanian childhood. He was a black Kelpie, well mostly Kelpie anyway. My father usually called him ‘Boy’. Oddly enough, this was the same term of endearment he used for his children, including my sister and me. 😎 Here is dear
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I have been reading Wilkie Collin’s novella The Haunted Hotel and it has left me with a longing for a tumbler of hot Maraschino Punch. For those who haven’t read the book, there is a link to a plot summary at the end of this piece. One
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The Tasman Limited train service ran from the North West Coast town of Wynyard through to Hobart. It began in December1954. Here it is crossing the Leven River at Ulverstone, my hometown. That paint scheme of cream and red gave rise to the nickname, The Blood &
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