Stephen W. O’Flaherty was a worker in a sawmill at Derby, a small community in the north-east of Tasmania. In the early 1900s he suffered a significant injury when a lever at the mill rebounded, breaking his arm in two places. It was said that he had
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I have to say that this is one of those ‘worst house on best street’ scenarios. I was strolling along leafy Park Avenue (in Blackheath sadly, not New York) when I was stopped in my tracks by a pair of golden eyes. They were peering from the
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Recently I paused and looked skyward at this wonderful Sydney building. At street level it’s hard to appreciate its full, 300ft glory, sheathed in glazed cream, terra-cotta tiling. Somehow it reminds me of the toy blocks I played with during my 1950s childhood. However, it was built
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Around Christmas 1950, twin white cats were spotted atop the southern pylon of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. There they remained. It seemed the pair had decided it was the best location in the city, with world class views. Well really, who could blame them? The snowy residents
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Max the parrot’s life could have ended before it really got going. We drove into our Blue Mountains property a couple of weeks ago and almost skittled him. He was nibbling on an acorn, completely oblivious to any danger. I had to hop out and shoo him
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The 1932 Melbourne Cup was truly an occasion to remember. It was won in extraordinary circumstances by a three year old stallion called Peter Pan. The horse was drop-dead gorgeous. His light chestnut body contrasted with a blonde mane and tail. He was owned by Mr Rodney
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Editor Des has been bird watching with me for the last few months, and becoming quite the ‘twitcher’. Unfortunately he has a lot to learn, which recently led to a head injury…. and a severe knock to his confidence. It should be remembered that a male satin
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South Australian Victor Richardson was a talented all-round sportsman. He excelled at tennis, golf baseball and Australian Rules Football. He captained Australia in cricket and played in the infamous ‘Bodyline’ cricket series alongside Don Bradman. With this in mind, perhaps we can forgive him for a bit
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My great-uncle James (Jim) Allen was a miner. At 32 he enlisted in WWI, then returned home to work in the rich Brisies tin mine at Derby, in north-eastern Tasmania. I have vague memories of my grandmother talking about relatives at Derby when I was a child,
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It’s weird when you wake up at the crack of dawn and open the front door to find the whole landscape has changed. Trousers might have been a sensible idea, Editor Des. What one earth! While we were sleeping the snow was quietly falling. We don’t often
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