The bush was grey A week today Olive green and brown and grey; But now the spring has come this way, With blossoms for the wattle. By Veronica Mason. One of my favourite trees is Acacia pravissima, also known as The Oven’s wattle. It can withstand the
Read more →What a privilege it is to be part of New South Wales History Week. It’s an opportunity to speak on subjects close to my heart, and this year a chance to see a part of the state I have never visited before; Singleton in the Upper Hunter.
Read more →THE VICTORY….HEART OF ‘OLD’ BLACKHEATH The Victory Theatre opened in 1921 as The Arcadia picture house. Locals even enjoyed an early form of 3D. It is now a vast antiques centre. The bear (Editor Des) is not for sale, though sometimes I am sorely tempted to put
Read more →Sydney born Harley Cohen was one of the first to enlist in WWI. His service number in the 4th Battalion was a very low 37. He was a slight figure, only 5′ 3″ tall and weighing in at a shade over 8 stone. He was university educated
Read more →BLUE MOUNTAINS TWITCHER Introducing myself…Editor Des. After a bit of training I’m now a master bird watcher in the beautiful Blue Mountains. I was originally banned from this pursuit by my guardian Pauline Conolly, because I kept chattering and scaring Mr Satin Bowerbird. For heaven’s sake,
Read more →Hello, Editor Des here. Well I like visiting medical museums. In fact, I quite fancy myself as a doctor. Last year I performed a little operation on my neighbor Fred, after he carelessly lost a second leg. It was reasonably successful. These museums can be
Read more →One historical event I really wish I could have attended is London’s Great Exhibition of 1851. Those inventive, enthusiastic Victorians put on a display that dazzled the world. It was housed in a building so innovative it scarcely seemed real; the remarkable Crystal Palace. Of course eventually
Read more →I rather like misty days, they remind me of cool flannels being placed on fevered brows. Our property adjoins the Blue Mountains’ National Park and sometimes bushwalkers become disoriented, blundering into my garden. I point them in the direction of Govett’s Leap, with a gentle warning to
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