As a dairy farmer’s daughter, the first holiday I ever had (apart from staying with relatives) was in the little Tasmanian town of Boat Harbour. With cows to milk every day we just never went on family vacations. My seaside holiday was thanks to Laura and Geoff
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In 1933 Tasmanian born artist Stephen Bransgrove was being feted as a principal prize winner at the 108th annual exhibition at the National Academy of Design in New York City. Bransgrove was a complete unknown, so it was a huge but pleasant surprise. Apparently he had lived
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With the renovation of the Blackheath Duck Pond last year came the planting of native reeds and grasses around the perimeter. My sincere thanks to the volunteers who did so much to help. What a success it has been, and in such a short space of time.
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The Merino – ship of treasures. In July 1949, Tasmanian Premier Robert Cosgrove travelled to Scotland to launch the freighter Merino. It had been built on Glasgow’s River Clyde on behalf of Launceston trading company L.W. Smith Pty. Ltd. A bottle of Tasmanian champagne had been sent
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In September 1953 an event celebrating the history of nursing in Sydney was held at the Town Hall. It was organized by the Australian Trained Nurses Association. One of the major characters represented in the ‘cavalcade’ was Lucy Osburn, first matron of the Sydney Infirmary (later known
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Boxes of transparencies taken by my in-laws, Jean and Alan Conolly had not been opened in nearly 60 years. They were mostly family shots taken around Hobart (Glenorchy and Sandy Bay) in the 1950s and early 60s. I might add that my own parents were still using
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A look at safe breaking in Australia back in the day. Picking a padlock or manipulating tumblers on a combination lock was generally confined to a few experts with sensitive fingers and acute hearing. It wasn’t easy, and of course the contents could be disappointing to say
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The other day two strange little, big footed birds came tumbling down the steps outside my kitchen window at Blackheath. When I described them to my partner he said, ‘Oh yes, I’m sure I’ve seen them too, down by the duck pond.‘ We live close by the
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Thai Silk, in the Blue Mountains village of Blackheath, is our closest restaurant. It’s housed in what was once a private residence, at 124 Wentworth Street. My partner Rob and I live just a few minutes walk away. OK, so a bit of a negative first. It
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Revenge on ‘Bad Santa’ by Editor Des. Warning, there is a degree of violence depicted in this story. Every Christmas there is a confrontation at our Blue Mountains home between an elderly, battery powered walking Santa and my young associate Editor Des. Santa marches straight up to
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