tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2046318894182789192024-03-12T18:59:20.439-07:00Family Stories: Photographs and MemoriesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-74181215170036029672015-05-14T03:09:00.000-07:002015-05-14T03:09:22.156-07:00Wordless Wednesday - Shepherd Siblings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMrbO8bEWJ2Pqd1T1ZgmVadUF8UgbEspobCHM-Nvh7XihrjCr1Ky7foDcH6qSy_0c9GknXliXpS_tch2rnEZ0m1JRm6f82JQhTteAcCd46TWypePYctlD397NeevcszWLGE0SZMRSO0W3/s1600/Nancy,+Malcolm+and+Colin+Shepherd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzMrbO8bEWJ2Pqd1T1ZgmVadUF8UgbEspobCHM-Nvh7XihrjCr1Ky7foDcH6qSy_0c9GknXliXpS_tch2rnEZ0m1JRm6f82JQhTteAcCd46TWypePYctlD397NeevcszWLGE0SZMRSO0W3/s640/Nancy,+Malcolm+and+Colin+Shepherd.jpg" width="364" /></a></div>
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This is a picture of my father Malcolm Lloyd Shepherd and his siblings Nancy and Colin, which was probably taken about 1932. Their parents were <b><a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/07/christina-sterland-lee.html" target="_blank">Christina Sterland Lee</a> </b>and <b><a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shepherd</a>.</b> Unfortunately, their father, <b><a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/07/christina-part-two-letters-from.html" target="_blank">Mac, died in 1932</a></b> as a result of injuries he received in a logging accident. As I look at this picture, I wonder if it was taken before or after the death of their father. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-34636383720480467872015-04-16T04:13:00.000-07:002015-04-21T02:31:55.423-07:00Almost "Wordless Wednesday" - another Treasure from Aunty Glad's Suitcase<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-nspK2m8KTRjZoksoFwjBi4mfx6QFgOCuR34LToYmzg5iIXEFGDG-8_skeaCoH_ogzEOb2H2YP0VQRHM2Iq9_IPJRveSOIeqABwCF8kVXHoIz86LtBvAvOwiGKL_i3sUvtTlsvqn2Fw3/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-nspK2m8KTRjZoksoFwjBi4mfx6QFgOCuR34LToYmzg5iIXEFGDG-8_skeaCoH_ogzEOb2H2YP0VQRHM2Iq9_IPJRveSOIeqABwCF8kVXHoIz86LtBvAvOwiGKL_i3sUvtTlsvqn2Fw3/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" height="191" width="200" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">It is time to rummage in <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/sentimental-sunday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Aunty Glad's Suitcase again! </a></span></b></h4>
Today's discovery is a post card from Malcolm Michael Shepherd to his brother Angus.<br />
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The card was posted on Thursday 10th June 1916, Telelekebir and would have been posted from Port Suez, when Malcolm was travelling through to England on the <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/military-monday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Hororata</a> with his Battalion (7th Reinforcement of the 30th Battalion) to England. The 10th of June 1916 was the day his Battalion, would have received the news that they were proceeding on to Alexandria. See below a short extract from my recent post on <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/search?updated-max=2014-12-01T03:33:00-08:00&max-results=7&start=7&by-date=false" target="_blank">Malcolm's journey from Australia to England.</a> </div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b>"June 9</b> – Anchored in Port Suez. At 2 p.m. weighed anchor and entered Suez Canal. I am told that all troops that came over before us were allowed ashore to strength their legs, but for some reason or other we were not allowed to do so. It was very interesting going through the Canal. It is well guarded day and night. Here and there in isolated spots one can see a small patch of grass struggling for life, or else a few reeds growing on the edge of the canal. With that exception all one could see was one long strength of sand, white and glistening with camps of troops dotted here and there over the desert. No one was more pleased that I when we were told that we had to proceed to Alexandria. The sight of that vast stretch of sand and the temperature was quite sufficient for me. All the boys who had the bad luck to be stationed there have the sympathy of every one on board our boat. The Canal is reckoned to be 34 miles long and takes 16 hours to do a trip through, as boats are not allowed to travel any faster than 5 miles per hour on account of the was doing damage to the banks. Leaving the Canal we came along to Port Said, arriving there about 7.30 am. Port Said presents a very busy scene by what one can see from the boat. It is a hurry and scurry, small pleasure boats rowing about everywhere.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b>June 11</b> – Leaving Port Said we went on to Alexandria. As soon as we left Port we were ordered to don life belts and were never without them till we arrived at Plymouth. They were worn all day, and even slept in them. It was a very queer sensation to wake up the first morning and find a life belt hanging to one’s neck by a piece of tape. It made one feel as if one had been having a night out, and did not remember what had taken place before retiring."</i></span></div>
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<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tall_al_Kabir" target="_blank">Telelekebir,</a> is about 110 kms north east of Cairo. Malcolm reports that one of his friends, Tom Garratt, has been taken to hospital in Cairo, as he had been sick for over a week. </div>
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The picture on the front of the card is of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heliopolis_Palace" target="_blank">Heliopolis Palace,</a> is now one of the three royal palaces in Cairo. It was built in 1910 as a grand Hotel. This grand hotel would have certainly made an impression on the young soldier from the small southern highland village of Braidwood, NSW.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYdSpfrMGgmWaYagINDMXWClOR8Rpx2uozWzx3XRxWeXZo6Aa61stRjB-AnCV3yIRPu5EKWeMa3iGaePIPeTo3HM7yq97AoI7zycqj3gWIkjMK0gemwwW2Xm2amH4bnjj0ihJXIhCcTqur/s1600/Post+cards+9b+-+back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYdSpfrMGgmWaYagINDMXWClOR8Rpx2uozWzx3XRxWeXZo6Aa61stRjB-AnCV3yIRPu5EKWeMa3iGaePIPeTo3HM7yq97AoI7zycqj3gWIkjMK0gemwwW2Xm2amH4bnjj0ihJXIhCcTqur/s1600/Post+cards+9b+-+back.jpg" height="416" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back of Post Card sent home from Suez</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8ScknDxxQEwd6q5i3PrAQ_Q2br45mSNrNIn9JIbRUVLAsjzNuHceKV1uPNs2YRvp2zQYNOoJ-LBJQ_8D6K6wcxDr9bSGJARHsfWg9mY-hm7a-fpLpyI7DJwmoDq4fZMiqaHk7W7PQwKN/s1600/Postcards+9b+-+front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx8ScknDxxQEwd6q5i3PrAQ_Q2br45mSNrNIn9JIbRUVLAsjzNuHceKV1uPNs2YRvp2zQYNOoJ-LBJQ_8D6K6wcxDr9bSGJARHsfWg9mY-hm7a-fpLpyI7DJwmoDq4fZMiqaHk7W7PQwKN/s1600/Postcards+9b+-+front.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Front of Post Card sent by Malcolm Michael Shepherd from Suez.<br />
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Once again, I have to count my blessings, and thank <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/sentimental-sunday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Aunty Glad </a>for having the forethought to save all these wonderful family memories, that give such meaning to our family stories.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-6475599521977383912015-04-12T04:02:00.000-07:002015-04-12T04:02:09.868-07:00Sentimental Sunday - Family Gathering <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDExCc6C9zv-v8AUJeEQKA-RBQbq_DGONGAzgTOAxFalVwbKDGovyvwoERl7T19TRUjORIlndjlJ3Hwp8pCasHlPeUHkmOH6dn79UnZtxJBv6TAIg3QcArXjOlopd7T-LBaJ760Bcud92C/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDExCc6C9zv-v8AUJeEQKA-RBQbq_DGONGAzgTOAxFalVwbKDGovyvwoERl7T19TRUjORIlndjlJ3Hwp8pCasHlPeUHkmOH6dn79UnZtxJBv6TAIg3QcArXjOlopd7T-LBaJ760Bcud92C/s1600/photo.JPG" height="376" width="640" /></a></div>
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This weekend has been very productive, with the confirmation of the date and venue for the <b><i>Shepherd, Carraige, Lee Family Gathering</i></b> to be held on the 4th October, 2015. The family gathering is for anyone who is connected to the descendants of <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/07/christina-sterland-lee.html" target="_blank">Christina Lee</a> and her two husbands <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shepherd</a> and<a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/07/marraige-to-lionel-carriage-and-family.html" target="_blank"> Lionel Carraige</a>. Family names include, Lee, Shepherd, Carraige, <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/search?updated-max=2013-11-19T03:06:00-08:00&max-results=7&start=7&by-date=false" target="_blank">McGregor</a>, <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/02/sundays-obituary-donald-mcdonald-1834.html" target="_blank">McDonald</a>, <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/03/wordless-wednesday-james-mcgregor-and.html" target="_blank">McPherson</a>, <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/emma-jane-weston-1839-1914-life-on-gold.html" target="_blank">Weston,</a> Webb, Rixon and Davidson.<br />
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These families were among the earliest settlers in the Araluen, Braidwood, Nelligen, Bateman's Bay, Milton and Ulladulla districts of Southern New South Wales. <br />
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The next few months will be spent connecting with as many family members as possible, collecting family photos and stories and finalising arrangements for the day. A learning process for us all :).<br />
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If you think you are connect to these families or know someone who is, please leave me a message on this blog and I will arrange to send you the details.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-10508928142992052592015-03-31T03:37:00.005-07:002015-04-21T02:32:19.647-07:00Meetings Across Time - Australian War Memorial - A fitting start to Congress 2015<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzg5kKPVBrRFxMFT6tNRLgSUE6tETLR5GCAbg4O4Y-LQaU-BrzWjc97wNaAMgjBuQHfUF_06IRdVPf1ir0jyBDxfOMBrIrmTLpPbw2Vs5AOlBx1b9hnIauciHZpW_vqMPC7VKm6rEHTx6L/s1600/photo+(33).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzg5kKPVBrRFxMFT6tNRLgSUE6tETLR5GCAbg4O4Y-LQaU-BrzWjc97wNaAMgjBuQHfUF_06IRdVPf1ir0jyBDxfOMBrIrmTLpPbw2Vs5AOlBx1b9hnIauciHZpW_vqMPC7VKm6rEHTx6L/s1600/photo+(33).jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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Last Thursday, the opening of the <a href="http://www.congress2015.org.au/congress-2015/" target="_blank">14th Australasian Congress on Genealogy and Heraldry Congress 2015</a> was held in <a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/visit/anzac-hall/" target="_blank">ANZAC Hall at the Australian War Memorial. </a>Family Historians, Genealogists of all ages gathered together in excited anticipation among the magnificent old planes from the first and second World Wars, to meet old and make new friends. </div>
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The Avro Lancaster MK Bomber "G for George" towering above the crowd set an imposing back drop for the evening and made a fitting setting for the opening of the Congress.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnnCUsSt4WUVti_Lw8l0aDa55Yt4TAJIeXd659sEqyuoNbN8OEARRh-IL04upVNO6f4cVQHvtYPw-v-Qh_KbuUauW6nFTGjBu3gYD1oELH68L8a4vA39_zDAYx7ZHvn0etFkTJkqmKeqC/s1600/Image-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFnnCUsSt4WUVti_Lw8l0aDa55Yt4TAJIeXd659sEqyuoNbN8OEARRh-IL04upVNO6f4cVQHvtYPw-v-Qh_KbuUauW6nFTGjBu3gYD1oELH68L8a4vA39_zDAYx7ZHvn0etFkTJkqmKeqC/s1600/Image-1.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>Wall of Poppies in the Courtyard</b></span>.</td></tr>
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Prior to the opening event I took the opportunity to take a tour of the War Memorial. It has been almost 12 years since I last visited the War Memorial. Why it has been that long, I don't know!<br />
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As time was limited, I head straight to the <a href="https://www.awm.gov.au/visit/commemorative-area/" target="_blank">commemorative courtyard</a> and the Roll of Honour that surrounds the Pool of Reflection and the Internal Flame, to search for the name of my great great Uncle <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/military-monday-2013-trans-tasman-anzac.html" target="_blank">Alexander McDonald</a> who died on the 25 April 1915, while assisting his troops disembarkation at Anzac Cove, Gallopoli. It didn't take me long to locate his name among the members of the First Field Company of Engineers.<br />
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The courtyard was glowing with thousands of red poppies that visitors had placed against the names of the soldier's from their family. School children, gathered around the courtyard, some placing poppies against solders names, others chatting among their friends and hanging over the balcony waiting for the "Last Post" ceremony that is performed every day at 5.00pm.<br />
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A hush fell over the courtyard as the officials took their place in front of the Hall of Memory. School children and visitors quietly stood around the pool of reflection waiting in anticipation for the ceremony to begin.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexdSJZLES8xlfbRmwFdVZrq8IfnwOkFswshWOvYzRIqBJaPmz2NbiGf0kB5GSC21tF7o5-96ohQppTbJXgw4-ay2SDOWUfCLIEWSL75GccL-0iElbMUgR_Q1eZGrFBZYoKRkbHjOQ_iWi/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiexdSJZLES8xlfbRmwFdVZrq8IfnwOkFswshWOvYzRIqBJaPmz2NbiGf0kB5GSC21tF7o5-96ohQppTbJXgw4-ay2SDOWUfCLIEWSL75GccL-0iElbMUgR_Q1eZGrFBZYoKRkbHjOQ_iWi/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" height="400" width="240" /></a> </td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>Pool of Reflection - Australian War Memorial</b></span></td></tr>
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The emotional effect of this ceremony was remarkable, as the 200 or so children who had been skylarking and chatting among themselves only 10 minutes before were quiet and subdued, thoughtfully reflecting of those who had made the ultimate sacrifice for their country. <br />
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Representatives from each of the schools placed wreaths at the front of the pool of reflection. Then an elderly couple, either brother and sister, or husband and wife, assisted by memorial staff made their way carefully to the Pool of Reflection and placed a wreath of Australian flowers and red poppies gently next to the other wreaths.<br />
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It was obvious that they had made a special journey to the War Memorial and had arranged to place their floral tribute in memory of a relative. As I wiped a tear from my cheek, I watched this thoughtful and solemn placing of their wreath and wondered if they were remembering the face of a long lost sibling or a father they didn't get to know. <br />
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The late rays of the afternoon sun reflected on the water of the Pool of Remembrance as the last post played. <i>All was silent and reflective!</i><br />
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With in minutes the school children and other visitors made their way out of the memorial, some reflective, others chatting with excitement at the prospect of the events of the upcoming evening. As I made my way out to the front of the Memorial, I noticed the elderly couple from the ceremony outside, taking photos of each other. Capturing another memory of a day that held a great significance for them.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-18124323456269962222015-03-25T01:00:00.000-07:002015-03-27T19:09:25.203-07:00Wisdom Wednesday - Expanding your Ancestor's Timeline<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6zDHca6_Jely1yVY5X2vruPgzeyLDPckpK1DScW2MW5MZH220ppyPMnsGMKsnJm8Ts47raVcRzHcqKTf-yCJUTgv1ErZpUykH1Pbg3SIpTD27OPrrWCsGiRUEgHNFmdn_aM8fXlVj9ko/s1600/Time+Line.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6zDHca6_Jely1yVY5X2vruPgzeyLDPckpK1DScW2MW5MZH220ppyPMnsGMKsnJm8Ts47raVcRzHcqKTf-yCJUTgv1ErZpUykH1Pbg3SIpTD27OPrrWCsGiRUEgHNFmdn_aM8fXlVj9ko/s1600/Time+Line.jpg" height="220" width="400" /></a></div>
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Near the end of last year I posted on the <a href="http://worldwidegenealogy.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Worldwide Genealogy - A genealogical Collaboration</a> a blog on <a href="http://worldwidegenealogy.blogspot.com.au/2014/09/using-time-lines-as-family-history.html" target="_blank"><b>Using Timelines as a Family History Tool</b>.</a> This article outlined how to set up a timeline in an Excel using all the important dates and events of your ancestors life. </div>
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Ideally, dates for other family members would be included as well, e.g. birth of children, births/weddings/deaths of siblings, parents and grandparents, moving house etc. This timeline becomes a wonderful tool, giving you a visual picture and reference point of what was happening in your ancestor's life at any individual time. </div>
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The second section part of the blog covered the additional section of the timeline which is placed adjacent to your ancestor's timeline. This timeline depicts events that occurred during your ancestor's life time and that may have influenced the course of their life. <i><b>This part of the blog received a number of comments asking for suggestions and resources that would assist with filling out this section of the excel sheet. </b></i></div>
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This first part of the timeline depicts the important points in your family member's life, however, the section part helps to put your ancestor's story into context with what is happening around them. It helps you identify the external forces that may have influenced them or perhaps even changed their life. Events such as war, famine, closing down of a mill, changes in law can explain why an ancestor moved town, took up another trade, moved into the poor house or immigrated to another country. for example the <a href="http://www.historyplace.com/worldhistory/famine/introduction.htm" target="_blank">"Irish potato famine"</a> in Ireland or <a href="http://www.thelandmagazine.org.uk/articles/short-history-enclosure-britain" target="_blank">"The Enclosure Act"</a> in England. </div>
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In response to the inquiries on "<i>how to source information for the second section of the excel sheet",</i> I am following up on my first blog with details of some of the sources that can be use to build up the information I enter into the excel sheet. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRaJGAPnj6hIMu_wboCPXZHHKuCPbB8Xqo8-yGWMimFy69KKGKHMXzA6OWziwt8n5rYfASfwYWIGbyAtjpq_mb4QrmqID4EO4wQ5HgpOsz0XEt6vTlGBPkAkDzg4Nxmtw0LW2Kic1Slnj/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRaJGAPnj6hIMu_wboCPXZHHKuCPbB8Xqo8-yGWMimFy69KKGKHMXzA6OWziwt8n5rYfASfwYWIGbyAtjpq_mb4QrmqID4EO4wQ5HgpOsz0XEt6vTlGBPkAkDzg4Nxmtw0LW2Kic1Slnj/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" height="474" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of Annie Shepherd (nee McDonald)'s timeline<br />
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Above is a timeline, recently developed to depict the events in the life of my great grandmother Annie Shepherd (nee McDonald) <span style="text-align: justify;">(1869-1955). Here are some of the resources that I have used to build up her story. </span></div>
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One of the most valuable resources for researching the social history of your ancestors are the online <b>Newspaper's</b> and we are blessed with a number of excellent online Newspaper resources, eg <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/login" target="_blank">TROVE</a>, the <a href="http://www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk/" target="_blank">British Newspaper Archive</a> and <a href="http://www.freenewspaperarchives.us/" target="_blank">Free Newspaper Archive</a> for US papers. These sights provide a rich source of information, for example:</div>
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<li style="text-align: justify;">Obituaries - family names, where they lived, occupations, sickness, and if they died in an accident.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Accidents - if your ancestor died in an accident, it is quite likely you will be able to find an article about the death and the coronary inquest, for example <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/01/thriller-thursday-mystery-surrounding.html" target="_blank">Ralph Shepherd</a>.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Search newspapers that were published around a major event in your ancestors life i.e. birth, death, wedding, enables you to see what else was happening in their village or district at that time, it can provide an idea of what the weather was like at that particular time or if their family was living in a time of famine or plenty.</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Searching for details on the ship they traveled on, can give you information on the day they arrived at their destination, any troubles that were experienced through their trip, if there was any diseases on board, how many died on the trip, stories of other people travelling on the same ship and what happened when they arrived. </li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMNQ3VfCKSEP3M7ZvikbNVKQlc5gXevOSFDzuJeCKtIjjA3a-SSnd_lxnRV2dKRkTZxuEr4fPjhZx2M73g7zsjEmpGfLtE_z9ZRmMByyJBQCbOxc9Q6dLdEx5jOX9Kpam2_Jyv6xTCvjZ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvMNQ3VfCKSEP3M7ZvikbNVKQlc5gXevOSFDzuJeCKtIjjA3a-SSnd_lxnRV2dKRkTZxuEr4fPjhZx2M73g7zsjEmpGfLtE_z9ZRmMByyJBQCbOxc9Q6dLdEx5jOX9Kpam2_Jyv6xTCvjZ/s1600/photo.JPG" height="321" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some events from Annie McDonald's Timeline </td></tr>
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Another valuable group of records are soldier's <a href="http://www.naa.gov.au/collection/explore/defence/service-records/" target="_blank"><b>War Records</b>.</a> These provide information on enlistment and embarkation dates, the ports they stopped at on their way, where they were stationed, when they were ill or wounded, the hospitals they were treated in. This information can in turn lead/link you to further discoveries, for example by searching the battles they fought in, the commanders of their battalion, the hospitals they were treated in, the ships they traveled on, diaries of other soldiers in the same battalion and so on. For example, <a href="http://www.anzacsite.gov.au/5environment/homefront.html" target="_blank">Private Roy Denning's </a>published Diary, details the days before the landing at Gallipoli, and mentions Annie McDonald's brother <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/military-monday-2013-trans-tasman-anzac.html" target="_blank">Alexander McDonald</a>. His account describes how Alexander was shot while he helped his troops disembark at ANZAC Cove. </div>
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If your ancestor was a teacher the <a href="http://www.records.nsw.gov.au/state-archives/indexes-online/indexes-to-education-and-child-welfare-records/index-to-schools-and-related-records" target="_blank"><b>Public School Records</b></a> can provide information on Public Service Records, school records for teachers, give details of where they taught and a short report on their appointments, complaints by parents and inspections. </div>
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In Australia each state has an online site that provides information of <b>mining leases and land ownership records.</b> These records not only provide information and maps of the land leased or mined but also give details of others people they may be in partnership with or who their neighbours are. By researching these partners or neighbours you can find more information on the people living around your ancestor and events that would have impacted them as well.</div>
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Careful examination of <b> Census Records</b> can be very rewarding, providing details on your ancestors social position, land they own, occupation, number of men they employed, the occupation of other family members. Also, look at their neighbours - their occupations, did any of the family marry anyone in the same street, were there children the same age living next door, it is possible that they went to school together, worked together? </div>
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<b>Council websites</b> can also provide background on the history of the area your ancestor lived in. Many council websites have time lines attached outlining important events e.g. opening of buildings, introduction of tramlines, opening of picture theatre, establishment of council. A good example of this is the <a href="http://www.leichhardt.nsw.gov.au/Library/Local-History/Our-Suburbs/Leichhardt" target="_blank">Leichardt (or Balmain) Council </a>which provides a well resourced historical timeline.</div>
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<b>Genealogical and Historical sites</b> also provide wonderful resources on the social history of their district and the events that have impacted on the lives of the people who lived there. A good example of this is<a href="http://www.burrahistory.info/" target="_blank"> Burra History Society</a> in South Australia.</div>
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<b>Books and Diaries </b>written about the industry your ancestor worked in, the town they lived in, events they took place in can be a wonderful source of information on the social conditions that your ancestor lived in and experienced. A wonderful example of this for me was when I was researching my husbands great great grandmother <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/william-and-elizabeth-taylor-elizabeth.html" target="_blank">Elizabeth Rushworth</a>, I discovered <a href="http://www.thornber.net/famhist/htmlfiles/colne.pdf" target="_blank">"Memories of Colne - by Margaret Cryer"</a>. This book provided me with a wonderful sense of what the town of Colne was like in the time that Elizabeth was alive. </div>
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Another resource that should be explored are <b>Cousins. </b>Researching your ancestor's cousins can often lead to further discoveries about the family history, remembering families often lived in close proximity and they shared many experiences and life events together.</div>
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Finally, a resource that should not be forgotten are <b>Cemeteries. </b>These are an important part of our past, in fact you could think of them as a social museum providing insight into the times of our ancestors. Not only do they record the birth and death dates of our ancestors, they can enlighten us on relationships, and other family links, other surnames to be researched and sometimes their epitaph will provide you with a clue to an ancestor's personality. Cemeteries provide clues to the development of the district your ancestor lived in, the cultural and ethnic influences, the dominant religious group and often times of troubles are highlighted when numerous burials are recorded around the same time.</div>
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These are just some of the resources that can be used to "plump" out the life time line of your ancestor. <b><i>Please share any others that you can think of!</i></b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-6091112141004687582015-03-17T02:07:00.000-07:002015-03-17T13:50:52.358-07:00Sharing Memories - Mail deliveries in the Outback<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzYokmaPc3u_gSPWW0zHvgE_7ztREf3WP59lLSs5mgh-MMYH4AepEpoZuGdLBOtEnsl3hrc7Pc6a0P4wZWZipXGj0j3XJOr53gjvzlwZOThLKD9qeiC8OZcMAua4EOAabqa_Y_0EJk1fx/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzYokmaPc3u_gSPWW0zHvgE_7ztREf3WP59lLSs5mgh-MMYH4AepEpoZuGdLBOtEnsl3hrc7Pc6a0P4wZWZipXGj0j3XJOr53gjvzlwZOThLKD9qeiC8OZcMAua4EOAabqa_Y_0EJk1fx/s1600/photo.JPG" height="214" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister waiting for the mailman</td></tr>
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For many, the daily visit from the postman, or trip to the post office to collect mail from the post box is of no significance. However, for those who live in isolated area, the weekly (or sometimes less often) delivery of mail and supplies is an event of importance! For many this is the only link with the outside world for extended periods of time. Today I am <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/p/sharing-memories.html" target="_blank">Sharing my memories </a>of our outback mailman.</div>
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I can still remember the excitement I used to feel, when we caught a glimpse of the cloud of dust advancing along the road to <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/amanuensis-monday-sharing-memories.html" target="_blank">Nuntherungie Station </a>(this could sometimes be seen for quite a few miles), that signaled the imminent arrival of the mail truck. Nuntherungie Station was between <a href="http://www.brokenhillaustralia.com.au/" target="_blank">Broken Hill</a> and <a href="http://www.whitecliffsnsw.com/" target="_blank">White Cliffs</a> and the mail truck would arrive at our homestead on Saturday mornings, dropping of mail and supplies on its way through to White Cliffs.</div>
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The first mailman that I can remember as a young girl was Mr Vincent, a short slightly rotund gentleman who was always dressed in overalls. Every Friday he would load his truck with orders of bread, vegetables, fruit and other supplies, mail, newspapers and other supplies needed by the properties between Broken Hill and White Cliffs. He would set out along the red dusty road, stopping at all the Stations along the way.</div>
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My sisters and I would await his arrival with great expectations, as he always had a small sweet treat for all the children along the way. I remember relishing the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cherry_Ripe_%28chocolate_bar%29" target="_blank">Cherry Ripes</a>" that he would pass around when he arrived. As was the bush custom, my mother would brew a pot of tea and have a nice slice of sponge cake, or scones ready for Mr Vincent's morning tea. My mother would enjoy the chat over a cup of tea with our mail man. Her life on a station was very isolated and it gave her a chance to catch up on news from Broken Hill, and the other properties along the road. </div>
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Among the letters and newspapers there was our weekly subscription to comics for my sisters and I. I would be on the edge of my seat waiting for the next installment of the school girl mysteries in "Girls Own" and my sisters would pour over their new copies of the "Jack and Jill" comic books.</div>
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Also included in our mail would be our next set of lessons from <a href="http://dehanz.net.au/entries/correspondence-school-blackfriars/" target="_blank">Blackfriar's Correspondence School.</a> Our completed lessons from the previous week would be packaged up, ready for Mr Vincent to take back to Broken Hill, for posting to Blackfriar's head office in Sydney.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyGTV7H9kUEry9uSKEBAe8WOeZcsbzFqbyUUQx2jNq_qRdWhkbBgax1sr_r-7MAWRvxd9mXuQgJlTLzjs9lXWLB5htViV9mXHFzQfHn-HM7V09yH4NpG4YlHuuJx_puq0XAfV06rAsn-d/s1600/mail+truck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyGTV7H9kUEry9uSKEBAe8WOeZcsbzFqbyUUQx2jNq_qRdWhkbBgax1sr_r-7MAWRvxd9mXuQgJlTLzjs9lXWLB5htViV9mXHFzQfHn-HM7V09yH4NpG4YlHuuJx_puq0XAfV06rAsn-d/s1600/mail+truck.jpg" height="218" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article133437762" target="_blank">June 30 1950, <i>Western Grazier</i></a></td></tr>
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The truck arrival also meant we would have fresh bread for our sandwiches. The fresh bread that arrived from the Broken Hill Bakery would have to last the week. So as you can imagine by the end of the week, toast was the best option. Though I do remember my mother wrapping the loaves in a damp tea towel and heating it int he oven to freshen it up a bit.</div>
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Then there was the time when the rain came, and this quite often mean that the mailman would have difficulty getting through to make his deliveries, as the creeks would flood and roads would be cut. On these occasions, my father would sometimes have to drive through with the tractor and pull the mail truck through a flooded creek or two (or three!). Heavy downpours would mean that the mail sometimes didn't get through for a couple of days. </div>
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Our outback mailman and his deliveries were very different to the mail delivery experienced by those living in town. He was more than the person who brought letters and parcels. His delivery of mail and supplies was also accompanied by news from the outside, a lolly shop experience for the kids and that little chat over a cup of tea for the isolated families along the dusty road between Broken Hill and White Cliffs.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAOkyytsHYE0G0VXQI0ljCmzCi3Avh_frhx5VlkWD3MzAt6odFS3AkxZaL1NyBovPipb1AH7_430pSGo65a27wWmSjnZzW_XZgnJEI5KSCKdoapn-HKJ6-_buq2IMYafiekXIh6XdqZ8Yj/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAOkyytsHYE0G0VXQI0ljCmzCi3Avh_frhx5VlkWD3MzAt6odFS3AkxZaL1NyBovPipb1AH7_430pSGo65a27wWmSjnZzW_XZgnJEI5KSCKdoapn-HKJ6-_buq2IMYafiekXIh6XdqZ8Yj/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" height="226" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr Vincent and his son, with their mail trucks at Nuntherungie Station</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-7352341342934793782015-03-08T23:26:00.000-07:002015-03-08T23:26:24.126-07:00Military Monday - Treasures from Aunty Glad's Suitcase - Postcards from WWI<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpn_nWHVVQoVjUurRXMhzKWNAJ-93buoCL5jT6hznKcS9hQ81PyVpc0IVwvJyw-HxRYuO_ifo2sFCQu63CLDC90OI5G2QBT8A99MDmbQzmp2U033ruei2rzrA1roF9TiEk1SszxgMRd2Nw/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpn_nWHVVQoVjUurRXMhzKWNAJ-93buoCL5jT6hznKcS9hQ81PyVpc0IVwvJyw-HxRYuO_ifo2sFCQu63CLDC90OI5G2QBT8A99MDmbQzmp2U033ruei2rzrA1roF9TiEk1SszxgMRd2Nw/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" height="191" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/sentimental-sunday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Aunty Glad's Suitcase</a></td></tr>
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Among the many treasures found in <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/sentimental-sunday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Aunty Glad's Suitcase </a>is a wonderful collection of old postcards sent back to Australia by <a href="http://worldwidegenealogy.blogspot.com.au/2014/08/world-war-i-relic-of-some-significance.html" target="_blank">Angus</a> and <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Malcolm Shepherd.</a><br />
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Each card has a unique story, as does the one I am sharing with you today. Often the card's uniqueness comes from the message on the back, however, today's card's story comes from the verse and credit written at the bottom of the card.</div>
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The Song <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It%27s_a_Long_Way_to_Tipperary" target="_blank">"It's a long way to Tipperary</a>" was a popular song sung by the soldiers during WWI. It seems that <a href="https://magforum.wordpress.com/2014/12/17/a-home-chat-about-its-a-long-way-to-tipperary/" target="_blank">"A long way to Tipperary</a>" quickly became a favorite with the "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tommies" target="_blank">Tommies"</a>, It is interesting that at the bottom of the card there is a reference that the words to the song were printed with the permission of <a href="http://b.%20feldman%20and%20co%2c%202%20and%203%20arthur%20street%20london./" target="_blank">B. Feldman and Co, 2 and 3 Arthur Street London.</a> The words of the song are credited to <a href="http://artofthegreatwar.info/?attachment_id=4865" target="_blank">Jack Jude and Harry Williams</a>, with the Copyright belong to B. Feldman and Co.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPZ0fWTAyAUSuen-mFP4acZWaYl-YEV9fbMhlziH4KSv4XglPkCkdij-0530DDdf1Jx_8Tjcju1MVvoouizGvpex6-JctHs6EhBjQpOXcopN0cq5D9zTwk6h9Jw_yAvD5rH843JqhM8-g/s1600/Post+cards+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFPZ0fWTAyAUSuen-mFP4acZWaYl-YEV9fbMhlziH4KSv4XglPkCkdij-0530DDdf1Jx_8Tjcju1MVvoouizGvpex6-JctHs6EhBjQpOXcopN0cq5D9zTwk6h9Jw_yAvD5rH843JqhM8-g/s1600/Post+cards+1.jpg" height="640" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Postcard from WWI</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-22409852695391665982015-02-26T02:39:00.000-08:002015-02-26T02:39:43.520-08:00Family Recipe Friday - Nanna Carriage's Blackberry Jam<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_doDmUonl2Na4qD7MG5bVefio_hMw_nawUBNYK7Avn-ZSyJoCkPvQWpU7KQTbKLyA2kolRliTgT0XnxG25vWwuo4Mn76XOEQj-4-YB21WPCs-9Ii9NfXfMwGzw5YAs482T0NOktnG4Gv/s1600/blackberries+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_doDmUonl2Na4qD7MG5bVefio_hMw_nawUBNYK7Avn-ZSyJoCkPvQWpU7KQTbKLyA2kolRliTgT0XnxG25vWwuo4Mn76XOEQj-4-YB21WPCs-9Ii9NfXfMwGzw5YAs482T0NOktnG4Gv/s1600/blackberries+5.jpg" height="320" width="181" /></a></div>
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Late January through to February is Blackberry time in Australia. Blackberry bushes have long been recognised as one of the most <a href="http://weeds.dpi.nsw.gov.au/Weeds/Details/18" target="_blank">noxious weeds in Australia </a>and are the bane of many a farmer because of their tendency to take over valuable pastures</div>
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However for those of us who delight in the bushes sweet succulent fruit it is a different matter. Over the past 150 years or so, children have delighted in heading out to pick the berries in the summer time and bring them home for their mothers and grandmothers to make jam, pies and other delights. </div>
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As I outlined in my recent post, <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2015/02/sentimental-sunday-sharing-memories-its.html" target="_blank">Sharing Memories - It's Blackberry time!</a> blackberry picking in our summer school holidays was something we really looked forward to.</div>
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We would head out early in the morning and pick the berries, bringing them back to our Nanna, <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/my-memories-of-nanna-christina-carriage.html" target="_blank">Christina Carriage's</a> kitchen, ready for her to make her jam. The obvious next part of this story is the actual jam making, so today I would like to share with you Nanna Carriage's Blackberry Jam.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAEUzcKIbFZQTtosnTPC7Y5fiBcdXQ5oHth2fD68xmRUONH8WGUutDxMGXf8NJh4EzJHfQcJG6EYiILzZJ4Ds4Qks2HS1SUQ5P5l_DeBw6q_A374ptCqoiSW0iVKGT2Cb4HTCv0SMl3IG/s1600/blackberries+6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAEUzcKIbFZQTtosnTPC7Y5fiBcdXQ5oHth2fD68xmRUONH8WGUutDxMGXf8NJh4EzJHfQcJG6EYiILzZJ4Ds4Qks2HS1SUQ5P5l_DeBw6q_A374ptCqoiSW0iVKGT2Cb4HTCv0SMl3IG/s1600/blackberries+6.JPG" height="172" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Nanna Carriage's Blackberry Jam</i></b></div>
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<b><i>6lbs fresh firm blackberries</i></b></div>
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<b><i>1/2 cup of water</i></b></div>
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<b><i>4 tablespoons of lemon juice</i></b></div>
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<i>Sort berries, to check there are no old, overripe or damaged berries. Wash in a colander, drain and place into a large preserving pan or saucepan. Add water and lemon juice. Press the berries with a wooden spoon to release their juices. Place on a low heat and bring slowly to boil. Continue to boil slowly for approximately half an hour until the fruit is soft and liquid reduced. </i></div>
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<i>Add sugar (which has been preheated) to the berry mixture. Stir till dissolved, then turn heat up and boil quickly until the jam sets when tested.</i></div>
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<i>Pour the jam mixture into warm sterile jars and seal with airtight lids or jam papers. Label, date and store in a cool place. </i></div>
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<i><b>Nanna had some other tips for making good jam:</b></i></div>
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1. If you didn't have lemons, a peeled green apple can be added to the berries when cooking and this will aid in setting the jam.</div>
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2. Cook the fruit slowly, and only bring to the boil once the added sugar is dissolved. Remember it is the fruit that requires the cooking not the sugar, so low heat when cooking the fruit to soften, when the sugar is added heat is turned up to cook quickly.</div>
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3. To test if the jam is ready, drop a little jam into cold water in a saucer and push with finger, if the mixture is set and surface wrinkles it is ready.</div>
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4. To sterilize bottles wash in hot water, dry thoroughly and then place into warm oven before filling with jam.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DLnpvmZOkx0-wYdd2RHNBim3YDQgZNliF4HmOZJ1Oe5qB5nyvczwIhT3LT5OKw3lMgK6_ol9KRvZmyMHoJ5uECguXMNjHB84Q_KSAXOlg0TNTARAgBwNpBIF9pnvrCCwuAEOJ0g0F8vP/s1600/blackberries+7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DLnpvmZOkx0-wYdd2RHNBim3YDQgZNliF4HmOZJ1Oe5qB5nyvczwIhT3LT5OKw3lMgK6_ol9KRvZmyMHoJ5uECguXMNjHB84Q_KSAXOlg0TNTARAgBwNpBIF9pnvrCCwuAEOJ0g0F8vP/s1600/blackberries+7.JPG" height="200" width="157" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-55654521841026216542015-02-22T02:22:00.000-08:002015-02-22T17:58:56.743-08:00Sentimental Sunday - Sharing Memories - It's Blackberry time!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCj0vz2Ivq5zJtmRKAq2D4-TJcv6vhoM09i1u-fXX3hAiEHsdWJUMKgKRa13uCI-kMPzk90ygbqN8B_qKlOPOKpPm-ILaKf2NdF8X1OqYECmNNwjPqcwavT6o3Cc8Xi74XxIm6jmDn27NV/s1600/blackberries+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCj0vz2Ivq5zJtmRKAq2D4-TJcv6vhoM09i1u-fXX3hAiEHsdWJUMKgKRa13uCI-kMPzk90ygbqN8B_qKlOPOKpPm-ILaKf2NdF8X1OqYECmNNwjPqcwavT6o3Cc8Xi74XxIm6jmDn27NV/s1600/blackberries+2.JPG" height="264" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Black stained fingers and a purple grin!!</i></b><br />
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Yes it is blackberry picking season again. My son and grandsons had just returned from the swimming hole in the near by river and were delighted with the haul of blackberries they had picked from the bushes surrounding their swimming spot. A large container of juicy black berries was proudly displayed, neatly packed into plastic container ready to deliver to Aunty Jo so she could make the family's favorite berry jam! My grandsons had been hanging out for another jar of this jam, as the last jar had run out over six months ago.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vVbZqfvfzMsa2meYHk3mRbj9rAmN3LOa600848i_R4djaILOArpbDajysrIVOY9C7AKhA6i4ZlMP7YbNVBtM0ghv12dY6_qwVkIyreoK6hH8u0Jkjdj4PBOVYm9XWL-dzoDcDODxlGkP/s1600/Blackberries+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-vVbZqfvfzMsa2meYHk3mRbj9rAmN3LOa600848i_R4djaILOArpbDajysrIVOY9C7AKhA6i4ZlMP7YbNVBtM0ghv12dY6_qwVkIyreoK6hH8u0Jkjdj4PBOVYm9XWL-dzoDcDODxlGkP/s1600/Blackberries+3.jpg" height="217" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Part of the Blackberry Haul</td></tr>
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Their sticky fingers and stained smiles brought back childhood memories of summer holidays at my Nanna's (<a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/my-memories-of-nanna-christina-carriage.html" target="_blank">Christina Sterland Carraige, nee Lee</a>) house in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milton,_New_South_Wales" target="_blank">Milton, NSW</a>. My sisters and I, and my cousins would head out from our <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/10/sentimental-sunday-grandparents-day.html" target="_blank">Nanna's house</a> early in the morning to collect blackberries from the nearby fields in the dairy farms that surrounded the small township. </div>
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Dressed in old clothes, we would head off with buckets, gardening gloves, gumboots and long sleeve shirts (protection from the sharp spikes of the blackberry bushes). The youngest family members would tag along behind with smaller containers ready to assist. </div>
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Those of us with long legs would climb over the fences and then help the youngest scramble over into the field. We would make our way through the long paspalum grass, still damp with the morning dew. We were careful to not disturb the diary cows, flicking the summer flies with their tails as they munched on the grass.</div>
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At the bottom of the field we would find the large clumps of blackberry bushes, you could smell the sweet ripe fruit and see the clumps of black shiny berries hanging ready for the picking. First things first!! testing if they tasted any good! We would all pick some of the berries and shove them into our mouths, sweet, juicy and warm from the morning sun! The juice would run down our chins as we grinned with delight.</div>
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Then Nanna's voice fare-welling us earlier in the morning would bring us back to reality "Don't eat them all! Bring lots back so I can make some blackberry jam and blackberry pie!" Visions of Nanna's chunky jam on fresh bread with cream and bowls of fresh berries topped with vanilla ice-cream spurred us into action. Buckets were placed strategically near the bushes and we started to fill up the smaller containers from the bushes and then carefully tipping them into the larger buckets. </div>
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By mid morning the bedraggled group of cousins, full buckets in hand, arms and legs adorned with purple stains and scratches, faces glowing with a mixture of berry juice and a little sunburn would head back to Nanna's house. Proudly the buckets would be placed on the bench in Nanna's kitchen! </div>
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In a short time, with hands and faces washed, the band of cousins would all sit around the kitchen table and hoe into the pile of fresh sandwiches and large glasses of cold cordial that Nanna has prepared. As we munched we would watch her wash and carefully weigh out the berries, preparing them for her part of the blackberry story - the jam making!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkn6U-Qb1Cdgq6TAk_kkSb2aQ5Jywil-6I9m_PnrG9UlejG8bfNcDrJ7u3u0TSL3EO8lJYeixWTnqm3kej19cxKPBDM1icoD59YKy5qdBbjm8wOGGaDpOFsIvVDlUZ4HlIakpaDTIRb96W/s1600/blackberries.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkn6U-Qb1Cdgq6TAk_kkSb2aQ5Jywil-6I9m_PnrG9UlejG8bfNcDrJ7u3u0TSL3EO8lJYeixWTnqm3kej19cxKPBDM1icoD59YKy5qdBbjm8wOGGaDpOFsIvVDlUZ4HlIakpaDTIRb96W/s1600/blackberries.JPG" height="142" width="640" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-47338383855099796112015-02-06T14:21:00.000-08:002015-02-06T14:22:51.006-08:00Sepia Saturday - The Original McGregor Family Photo<div style="text-align: justify;">
In late 2013 when visiting my Aunt I was excited to discover a photocopy of a <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/matrilineal-monday-ladies-of-mcgregor.html" target="_blank">picture of the McGregor Family</a> with the names of each of the members of the family inserted over the picture. This picture was a wonderful source of information on the family history and helped me break down a number of those "brick walls" that all family tree research come across. I always wondered who had a copy of the original picture and who had been able to identify each of the family members. </div>
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Just before Christmas last year, a distant cousin contacted me after reading my blogs on the <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/02/sentimental-sunday-walking-in-steps-of.html" target="_blank">McGregor Family</a>. To cut a long story short, we met for lunch and shared family stories, photographs and memories. (he he!). Among the photos that he had to show me was a copy of the original photo of the McGregor Family taken at the turn of the 20th Century.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AQs3qjEwMyDSwOfVIiaN0ngspH6bHMBChBa9-6W6CKAxr7pKrvhW_Yveyfz1309BRVxTkOaLZIOAebyte9jJQtIpDO2zg5WOJCh-nD-qUBtFFsQkpUjHFgHf5lL2Rcs6ACk0_7MAXyQu/s1600/McGregor+Family+Photo+300dpi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9AQs3qjEwMyDSwOfVIiaN0ngspH6bHMBChBa9-6W6CKAxr7pKrvhW_Yveyfz1309BRVxTkOaLZIOAebyte9jJQtIpDO2zg5WOJCh-nD-qUBtFFsQkpUjHFgHf5lL2Rcs6ACk0_7MAXyQu/s1600/McGregor+Family+Photo+300dpi.jpg" height="474" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Margaret and Jams McGregor and their family 1900 - Balmain, NSW</td></tr>
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My cousin was able to enlighten me on the person who had been able to identify everyone in the picture. At a funeral in 1975 Stan Sterland, who at that time was the last person from this picture still living, wrote down the names of each person in the picture. Stan is the small boy second from the right at the front of the picture.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8A5RgROo1trgEUTcX5QaNR7KKSEvO9ZLeHNVuTGJp9L5lVNoTh3-FuPpdkBIJWgVmLSy_fepe3li1hLtBHJTpLmwcGoB8Q205vUv3_N2eradXjudclBIFaalo__KEVFWQg-GvWZLPwyIY/s1600/McGregor+Family+Photo+Names.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8A5RgROo1trgEUTcX5QaNR7KKSEvO9ZLeHNVuTGJp9L5lVNoTh3-FuPpdkBIJWgVmLSy_fepe3li1hLtBHJTpLmwcGoB8Q205vUv3_N2eradXjudclBIFaalo__KEVFWQg-GvWZLPwyIY/s1600/McGregor+Family+Photo+Names.jpg" height="452" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have to reflect on how fortunate we are that we not only have this wonderful family picture, but also that on that day in 1975 Stan was able to sit down and identify each family member and helped to keep the story of the McGregor family alive and to provide us with vital clues in tracing their history.<br />
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If you are interested, some of the stories of the McGregor Family can be found on these links<br />
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1. <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/02/sentimental-sunday-walking-in-steps-of.html" target="_blank">Walking in the Steps of my Grandparents- James McGregor and Margaret McPherson</a><br />
2. <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/wordless-wednesday-mcgregor-family-bible.html" target="_blank">The McGregor Family Bible</a><br />
3. <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/matrilineal-monday-mary-ann-mcpherson.html" target="_blank">Mary Anne McPherson McGregor</a><br />
4. <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2013/12/catherine-and-george-lee-on-thier.html" target="_blank">Catherine McGregor</a><br />
5. <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2013/12/mystery-monday-isabella-allan-mcgregor.html" target="_blank">Isabelle Allan McGregor</a><br />
6. <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2014/03/sentimental-sunday-christina-mcgregor.html" target="_blank">Christine McGregor</a><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-46528772056214096572015-02-01T04:19:00.001-08:002015-02-01T04:29:45.041-08:00Sentimental Sunday - Pic from Aunty Glad's Suitcase - Alexander McDonald <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpO26R5zLm-syXOGGWB4_wFB0TaFV-LL0Fnr0H5PuFc-7yScMu-0wHMQh0zwG7tl3znpcV3pMi3pM29rR9D6B8j0Sl1zefk_1eIiEgj6PepftB0WgYrAnFpFiDvGQGsXJElirkwckwIiJj/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpO26R5zLm-syXOGGWB4_wFB0TaFV-LL0Fnr0H5PuFc-7yScMu-0wHMQh0zwG7tl3znpcV3pMi3pM29rR9D6B8j0Sl1zefk_1eIiEgj6PepftB0WgYrAnFpFiDvGQGsXJElirkwckwIiJj/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" height="190" width="200" /></a></div>
Time to share another treasure from Aunty Glad's Suitcase. This time it is a picture of my gg uncle Alexander McDonald's gravestone at Gallipoli.<br />
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<a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/military-monday-2013-trans-tasman-anzac.html" target="_blank">Corporal Alexander McDonald</a> died on the 25th April, 1915, while helping his troops embarking. <br />
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Recently, another descendant of another member of 11th Battalion who died on the same day brought to my attention, that Corporal McDonald was mentioned in Roy Denning's published Diary<a href="http://www.gould.com.au/Anzac-Digger-Engineer-Gallipoli-France-p/amh017.htm" target="_blank"> "Anzac Digger, an Engineer in Gallipoli and France",</a> He is mentioned a number of time in the early section of this book, up until his death.<br />
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Roy Denning describes the moment Alexander was shot.<i> "Only a few seconds elapsed before the hillsides were alive with spiteful flashes the steel decks of the destroyer alive with hissing hot lead splashing fire and fragments in every direction.</i><br />
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<i>The decks were soon running blood and slippery, Corporal McDonald was standing up calmly shouting orders when his voice trailed off in a gurgle and he crumpled to the deck. The Turks must have had machine guns trained onto the destroyer".* </i><br />
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I was excited to find among the treasures in Aunty Glad's suitcase a picture of Alexander headstone, taken by one of my cousins when she visited Anzac Cove in 2000.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhddXb0dwW1AwMHfdfCm3N5vo7ktQrxtLWienNrLNsBhxS80oaFmK6c-aUV9g5OS55wYlHyBe5Up6zgh3BD02H0pvjL5uAuKSGh5EIQaaNJMqfGNs7uXZttZPIzPecNVGJe0Qcb1uj34V4M/s1600/Alexander+McDonald.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhddXb0dwW1AwMHfdfCm3N5vo7ktQrxtLWienNrLNsBhxS80oaFmK6c-aUV9g5OS55wYlHyBe5Up6zgh3BD02H0pvjL5uAuKSGh5EIQaaNJMqfGNs7uXZttZPIzPecNVGJe0Qcb1uj34V4M/s1600/Alexander+McDonald.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corporal Alexander McDonald - 25 April 1915</td></tr>
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* Denning, Roy and Lorna, 2004, Anzac Digger, an Engineer in Gallipoli and France, Australian Military History Publications, Loftus Australia, p.15.<br />
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Also may be of interest:<br />
2013 Trans-Tasman ANZAC Day Blog Challenge - Alexander Joseph McDonald <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/military-monday-2013-trans-tasman-anzac.html">http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/military-monday-2013-trans-tasman-anzac.html</a><br />
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Letter from Major McCall, <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/amanuensis-monday-letter-from-major.html">http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/04/amanuensis-monday-letter-from-major.html</a><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-89695604221754196832015-01-26T02:45:00.002-08:002015-01-26T02:45:44.080-08:0052 Ancestors in 52 Weeks #2: Stri-KING Gold - Peter McGregor 1809-1882<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBddKKBtMtt7khcVu3oiHN1aaGTw51mVhs9wlYR6YidFP1kM-zTH9yVAB8rTyMB3iCPBHZKsD3AoHv9zgrcn6lG8NicvEVt7-5ohPQvMAeLdsPgf-WZnqhyphenhyphenf_l-R39i6-VMunyd_wDqQ4V/s1600/Peter+McGregor.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBddKKBtMtt7khcVu3oiHN1aaGTw51mVhs9wlYR6YidFP1kM-zTH9yVAB8rTyMB3iCPBHZKsD3AoHv9zgrcn6lG8NicvEVt7-5ohPQvMAeLdsPgf-WZnqhyphenhyphenf_l-R39i6-VMunyd_wDqQ4V/s1600/Peter+McGregor.JPG" height="320" width="316" /></a></div>
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The theme proposed by Amy Johnson Crowe's Challenge for the second week of the <a href="http://www.nostorytoosmall.com/52-ancestors-in-52-weeks/" target="_blank">52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks is "King".</a> I have been wracking my brain all week for a connection to this theme to no avail. </div>
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However, this morning when discussing the theme with my husband over our Saturday morning "flat white", he suggested using "stri-king". Light bulb moment thank you Steve! As many of my ancestors came to Australia with the hope of "Stri-King" gold, why not tell one of their stories.</div>
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<b>Peter McGregor</b> was my great great great grandfather and was born in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Redgorton" target="_blank">Redgorton, Perthshire Scotland </a>around 1809, the second son of John McGregor and Isabella McGlashan. He married his first wife Ann on the 20 May in 1830. Peter and Ann has four children John, James (my gg grandfather), Isabella and Peter. Sadly Ann passed away in 1840 leaving Peter with four young children to look after. It must have been difficult for him to look after his family on his own. On the 25 June 1848 Peter remarried Christina Guthrie (nee Miller) in <a href="http://www.werelate.org/wiki/Place:Barony,_Lanarkshire,_Scotland" target="_blank">Barony Lanark Scotland</a>. </div>
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In the following year Peter, Christina and their children, including Christina's son James from her first marriage, left Scotland on board the Diana bound for Australia. Peter's occupation on the shipping manifest is listed as a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sawyer" target="_blank">Sawyer</a>. Once they had arrived in Australia on the 9 June 1948, the family moved to the gold fields at Araluen, in the Braidwood district of the southern highlands of New South Wales. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNifieXRg954EUa-Tdia8s1shLq-UmlRE1IQEOFIUcsyPksmuKshxmcF45ULaWaZEYvZiYvwzzaAxKHAsmFvcNJb3BMPItTcRx1FOxkLBbzmUagIdhh7K85NwdU6nIb-h3rGRhqAAA5-Cp/s1600/Diana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNifieXRg954EUa-Tdia8s1shLq-UmlRE1IQEOFIUcsyPksmuKshxmcF45ULaWaZEYvZiYvwzzaAxKHAsmFvcNJb3BMPItTcRx1FOxkLBbzmUagIdhh7K85NwdU6nIb-h3rGRhqAAA5-Cp/s1600/Diana.jpg" height="310" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b>Shipping List for Diana - showing members of the McGregor family</b></span></td></tr>
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Peter McGregor was given a Crown Grant of 100 Acres in the parish of Jinglemoney near Araluen. It is reported that he sold this land to Mr James Laing, however the family continued to live on this land until 1863. A map of this block of land can be found on my blog, <i><a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/03/mappy-monday-jinglemoney-araluen.html" target="_blank">Mappy Monday - Jinglemoney Araluen</a></i>. <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/those-places-thursday-araluen-1859-home.html" target="_blank">Peter and his sons along with the McPherson Family</a> worked on the gold mines in the Araluen district and later at Bombay on the Shoalhaven River. </div>
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1863 was not a good year for Peter and his family. Late in the evening of 16th October 1863, <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/01/mystery-monday-mysterious-disappearance.html" target="_blank">Christina McGregor </a>lost her way and fell into a mine shaft and drowned. Following, Christina's death the family continued to live in the district. Isabella (married to Andrew Bowman) and Peter (married Annie Honeywell Couch) both stayed in the district. <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/02/sundays-obituary-james-mcgregor-1833.html" target="_blank">James</a> (married <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/03/wordless-wednesday-james-mcgregor-and.html" target="_blank">Margaret McPherson</a>) and John (married to Catherine Wallace) both <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/02/sentimental-sunday-walking-in-steps-of.html" target="_blank">moved with their families to live in Sydney in the late 1870's.</a></div>
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Peter McGregor stayed in the Braidwood district until he passed away on the 10th January 1882. He was buried in the <a href="http://www.australiancemeteries.com/nsw/palerang/braidwood_mdata.htm" target="_blank">Braidwood Cemetery</a>.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgKb_BFx3D3c-tmYeW7Uv6AKJSlRUTVRh_b5MEeGDk4N0G4lSdYrFldoeU-d3Ia1u9TrLfuzO9kLTw8VsTn4R0eLOCnDqzNWweNHcgjYkMFbizsAK2ITxWBs5O0_Pj1UjR7gh-wt7kHk3/s1600/Peter+Mc+Gregor.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirgKb_BFx3D3c-tmYeW7Uv6AKJSlRUTVRh_b5MEeGDk4N0G4lSdYrFldoeU-d3Ia1u9TrLfuzO9kLTw8VsTn4R0eLOCnDqzNWweNHcgjYkMFbizsAK2ITxWBs5O0_Pj1UjR7gh-wt7kHk3/s1600/Peter+Mc+Gregor.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Peter McGregor, daughter Isabella and her husband Andrew Bowman</span></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-6146861567129909172015-01-21T01:04:00.000-08:002015-01-21T02:01:29.622-08:00Treasure Chest Thursday - from Aunty Glad's Suitcase - WW1 Field Card<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ0qbb1An8IWeKOmhyphenhyphen3f4axAxike9MhCYDwKLHDLm6cZhv_OJLbQ5oLMqd3rbDjtzto4xmNKmvfozxjMEWYT7GFZi9RZPVl6-vrb1tP8k_jHu24QzOkLAjwEprOguNe49lYhWj0lNnZf2/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQ0qbb1An8IWeKOmhyphenhyphen3f4axAxike9MhCYDwKLHDLm6cZhv_OJLbQ5oLMqd3rbDjtzto4xmNKmvfozxjMEWYT7GFZi9RZPVl6-vrb1tP8k_jHu24QzOkLAjwEprOguNe49lYhWj0lNnZf2/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" height="191" width="200" /></a></div>
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It is time to dig into <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/sentimental-sunday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Aunty Glad's suitcase</a> for some more WWI history.</div>
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Among the collection of WWI post cards from<a href="http://worldwidegenealogy.blogspot.com.au/2014/08/world-war-i-relic-of-some-significance.html" target="_blank"> Angus Shepherd</a> and <span id="goog_542378001"></span><span id="goog_542378002"></span><a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shepherd</a> I found one that intrigued me. This was what you would call a "fill in the gaps" post card. i.e. the card had a number of messages on the back which the sender could cross out and keep the appropriate message. Handy I thought, something today's post card printers should consider for the traveler who wants to send a message home with the minimum of effort.</div>
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However, with this post card this was not the case. The card, from Angus, was sent to his mother Mrs Lynn Shepherd from somewhere in Europe on the 4th October 1817. You will note that instructions on the front of the card state that the only thing to be written on the front of the card is the address and <i>"If anything else is added the post card will be destroyed"! </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIbJ3lR9vhr79BQv8YbevVNiXWLg0HQxtwdBkVT620OA3pM-U7hCg5hWu2CbRTPSA-2D8VZKoUripayIXSPNd4DN3iqS2FMulZ_xnraGtWoOCQiKmRU1PkIMqA0dXOXq3ZVz0CRaV7kv1/s1600/Field+Post+Card+-+Angus+Shepherd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIbJ3lR9vhr79BQv8YbevVNiXWLg0HQxtwdBkVT620OA3pM-U7hCg5hWu2CbRTPSA-2D8VZKoUripayIXSPNd4DN3iqS2FMulZ_xnraGtWoOCQiKmRU1PkIMqA0dXOXq3ZVz0CRaV7kv1/s1600/Field+Post+Card+-+Angus+Shepherd.jpg" height="290" width="400" /></a></div>
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Field post cards were an early form of censorship that were designed for troops to send home. The message from the soldier was compiled by crossing out the irrelevant lines, they were not permitted to write any additional information other than their signature and the date.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkiJmrLhjzcivWg0lTi6ZP0PPov6dQV4kFSJ227QQO26ki4oZjkQIsrXE-ioljkYgS5yYUDAB0BR1voho22HsQWBFsuRDImlFMmrYnyZklweFdq52ULyVqvIULB-VInDkE1bacPTzDbhy/s1600/Card+from+Angus+Shepherd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkiJmrLhjzcivWg0lTi6ZP0PPov6dQV4kFSJ227QQO26ki4oZjkQIsrXE-ioljkYgS5yYUDAB0BR1voho22HsQWBFsuRDImlFMmrYnyZklweFdq52ULyVqvIULB-VInDkE1bacPTzDbhy/s1600/Card+from+Angus+Shepherd.jpg" height="400" width="328" /></a></div>
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Soldiers were not allowed to disclose their whereabouts, and I am sure many soldiers were glad to be able to send their family a simple greeting, without having to disclose the reality of their life in the battle field. </div>
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These post cards served a number of purposes. Not only did they provide their loved ones at home with the knowledge that they were still alive but also gave the soldiers something to do. Boredom was an issue for the soldiers in the field and writing was one of the few activities that they were able to do and provided them with some distraction from the horrors of war. </div>
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Playing a part in the War propaganda, the Field Cards not only delivering those at home with news of their loved ones in the forces but also helped to sustain the popularity of the war effort on the home front and protecting families from the reality of the Australian War effort in Europe and North Africa.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-59765721630570526152014-12-30T19:12:00.001-08:002014-12-30T19:32:26.915-08:00Wishful Wednesday - Out with the Old and in with the New<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJ6h5JIqR08FVt8PTc6JmmKgioQ21Su5xvMGdAm7OrO0E3p88sKHQkQcNugwp3xwIH55jae7NCA6iFmYEHZfodn8wJgMAD4GGiGNqn4QQOcXC-k1_D-rSDhvIoFA-HnDY1aqv7onkE5bc/s640/blogger-image--1017940821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJ6h5JIqR08FVt8PTc6JmmKgioQ21Su5xvMGdAm7OrO0E3p88sKHQkQcNugwp3xwIH55jae7NCA6iFmYEHZfodn8wJgMAD4GGiGNqn4QQOcXC-k1_D-rSDhvIoFA-HnDY1aqv7onkE5bc/s640/blogger-image--1017940821.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2014 is almost done! New Year celebrations are looming, time for reflection on the year that has past and the excitement of the year to come. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Today is a day is a first for me. Writing a blog on my IPad, so it will be short and sweet, as I learn the nuances of my blogger app. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I would like to thank all those who have taken the time to read and comment on my jottings over the past twelve months. 2014 has not been one of my most productive years for blogging, however I have connected with a number of new family members who have helped me link with many new family stories, photographs and memories. I hope that 2015 will prove to be a year when I can spend more time relating these stories.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Happy New Year to All, may 2015 bring good health, happiness and lots more stories!</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-55407509683405531492014-12-27T04:24:00.001-08:002014-12-30T04:29:14.082-08:00Sharing Memories - Boxing Day Reflection<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6PY1Fc2uR7NfnIQd_hP-PPU7sRCwHLP4Eg3qGerQKhxkAQGZonHpa7Ggbb_NoBf4apJRY59paC4jvynp0Pmr1lTN0CFDGxynMONu8seZC0P0-SyXtZIXdehkBHS1hbVcIrpJXE5trKXe/s1600/a+christmas+tree+-+Julaten.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6PY1Fc2uR7NfnIQd_hP-PPU7sRCwHLP4Eg3qGerQKhxkAQGZonHpa7Ggbb_NoBf4apJRY59paC4jvynp0Pmr1lTN0CFDGxynMONu8seZC0P0-SyXtZIXdehkBHS1hbVcIrpJXE5trKXe/s1600/a+christmas+tree+-+Julaten.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13.3333339691162px; text-align: center;">Christmas Morning </td></tr>
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As we munch on left over Christmas ham sandwiches I reflect on Christmas 2014. My husband and I are visiting his brother and wife in Northern Queensland and enjoying their hospitality in their pole house which is build on a 5 acre block in the rain-forest in the hinterland above Port Douglas. As I sit out on their deck, the wallabies quietly sneaking out from the rain forest to feed on the lawn and there is a brilliant flash of blue as a couple of beautiful Emperor butterflies flutter by, I reflect on past Christmas's.</div>
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Over the past 30 odd years we have travelled up to the Cairns district with our two sons to visit their Nanna for Christmas and this is our first trip back since Nanna passed away almost two years ago.</div>
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We spent these holidays visiting the reef, eating mango's, lychees and other tropical delights, fishing, swimming in mountain streams, checking out the crocodiles in the local wildlife park, chasing cane toads at night and visiting the local waterfalls and volcanic lakes. It is a little different this year as our son's were spending Christmas with their respective partner's families.</div>
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This year,our Christmas holiday was full of fun and laughter and had a strong international flavour. Our nephew brought with him a group of backpacker friends who didn't have family to spend Christmas with. Two boys from Ireland, two from Wales, one from New Zealand and a girl from France and their laughter and broad accents filled the house over the festive season. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8YWX58kO6e49RwJ13XCstlaN-a2VIYpy8tsigWwN0MYiozXcvlHBh0tl3i8d0LDbVRBfPYgyvNSNvrE49LeXFcNIQW_UJzer4SdexxRxdqAG2zEabjV5bYkI10cFqozV1Pa2MXWD1pNc/s1600/a+mount+Molloy+pub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB8YWX58kO6e49RwJ13XCstlaN-a2VIYpy8tsigWwN0MYiozXcvlHBh0tl3i8d0LDbVRBfPYgyvNSNvrE49LeXFcNIQW_UJzer4SdexxRxdqAG2zEabjV5bYkI10cFqozV1Pa2MXWD1pNc/s1600/a+mount+Molloy+pub.jpg" height="320" width="307" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13.3333339691162px; text-align: center;">Mount Molloy Pub - Christmas Eve</td></tr>
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Christmas Eve dinner was enjoyed at the local pub at <a href="http://www.gdaypubs.com.au/QLD/mount+molloy.html" target="_blank">Mount Molloy</a>, then back home where final parcels were wrapped and put under the tree, some watched Christmas Carols on TV, others played cards, sitting out on the veranda in the cool, and sipping the odd cold can of beer.</div>
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In the kitchen, finishing touches were made to the trifle, prawns were marinated, Christmas cake cut and rum balls were rolled in coconut and stowed into the fridge for Christmas day (minus a few that had to be sampled to check the flavour). </div>
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In the typical North Queensland style, a large table for the 16 guests was set up outdoors in the shade of the carport, table decorated in red and green. Christmas dinner consisted of cold ham, chicken and turkey accompanied by a huge bowl of freshly cooked king prawns, potato and green salads, washed down by drink of choice (beer, wine or the odd glass of bubbly). </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSM1lC5NhKjquDgGZoyBjnMv0o6-csP46Gg3EMUgb9fdvByxmfiYrbS_zK-gOVNi9eJyP8agjCVnyWokdNWHYxHeg51Fe0UecG9ombCyvGAZBG8wQpEXdqWvkhd5RpvdZiz20EoiTYyfSL/s1600/christmas+trifle.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSM1lC5NhKjquDgGZoyBjnMv0o6-csP46Gg3EMUgb9fdvByxmfiYrbS_zK-gOVNi9eJyP8agjCVnyWokdNWHYxHeg51Fe0UecG9ombCyvGAZBG8wQpEXdqWvkhd5RpvdZiz20EoiTYyfSL/s1600/christmas+trifle.png" height="320" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13.3333339691162px; text-align: center;">Santa putting final touches to the Trifle</td></tr>
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Plates piled high, crackers were pulled, jokes read, we all tucked in. It was such a delight to hear the Irish and Welsh banter, with comments "check out the size of the prawns!" , "ahh! the potatoes!!! I love potatoes" and so on. Crackers were popped, bad jokes read, and paper hats donned, wine and beer opened, and everyone tucked in.</div>
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When it came time for dessert, every one's dessert pocket was full, so the trifle, pavlova and Christmas pudding was put on hold for the evening meal. It was time for a short dip in the pool before the traditional game of Christmas Day Cricket was set up on the back lawn. </div>
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Teams picked, the international rivalry came to the fore, with the odd drinks break, in the shade of the trees. to discuss the different interpretations of the rules. As the afternoon passed the enthusiasm for cricket gave way to some "pale ale" by the pool side and a little rest, before it was time to dig into another round of eating in the evening. </div>
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After that dinner and some of the delicious trifle, we all sat around enjoying the balmy evening, watching the little gecko lizards running up the walls, and large moths that were attracted to the outside lights. Our international visitors shared some of their family Christmas stories from the other side of the world, stories of snow, sitting by the fire, hot roast dinners and their Mums cooking for a couple of days preparing their Christmas fare. It was pleasant to have been able to share what was quite a different Christmas celebration for them.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-32594332144973511542014-12-01T03:33:00.000-08:002015-04-21T02:33:33.393-07:00Military Monday - Treasures from Aunty Glad's Suitcase - Gibraltar to arrival at Lark Hill Salisbury Plains<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgdMmS56Rz0YQ0MtUD_B-GqEydgdLe6wMHrW8lScFQgLp7pwdk4mqR8dy1VG4U-2L5Isr_jTx0Bp4tbuawyIJomCOY0Fi0uQ_0CUzTHaeYlcHeD0ugSeEApJLSjDc14ag8R8OHQO-bM57G/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgdMmS56Rz0YQ0MtUD_B-GqEydgdLe6wMHrW8lScFQgLp7pwdk4mqR8dy1VG4U-2L5Isr_jTx0Bp4tbuawyIJomCOY0Fi0uQ_0CUzTHaeYlcHeD0ugSeEApJLSjDc14ag8R8OHQO-bM57G/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" height="190" width="200" /></a></div>
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The 30th and 34th Battalion's stay at Gibraltar was short lived, and their ship soon made its way to England. The rest of their trip was quite uneventful until finally after nearly eight weeks at sea the troops arrived in Plymouth Harbour. England at last!</div>
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My grandfather <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shepherd</a> and his fellow troops were quickly loaded onto a trains and taken to their camp at Lark Hill near the village of Salisbury. <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/sentimental-sunday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Aunty Glad's suitcase</a> holds a number of post cards depicting the countryside near Lark Hill. I will let Corporal Crossingham, complete the story of their arrival and settling into camp with the last part of his letter.</div>
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<b><i>The final section of Corporal Crossingham's letter continues: </i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"We stayed at Gibraltar about two and a half hours, then we
weighed anchor and off again around the Bay of Biscay. For some reason or other we did not go straight
through. From now until the 21<sup>st</sup> of June nothing happened of
interest.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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</div>
<o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSaJv9Tnmw-sAxJzblpuXH6fOL30pZkBdcb1U4PHmGdcMo5nI_w1xu1QNpf0hBuwj4DB81hMd0gy2u59ujsuPhVAVuQNr1yqDblHH8a2yVHJvXaQo3VmdhlONmfb3EPPoZfCiVDgRKb0qG/s1600/Post+cards+Gibraltar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSaJv9Tnmw-sAxJzblpuXH6fOL30pZkBdcb1U4PHmGdcMo5nI_w1xu1QNpf0hBuwj4DB81hMd0gy2u59ujsuPhVAVuQNr1yqDblHH8a2yVHJvXaQo3VmdhlONmfb3EPPoZfCiVDgRKb0qG/s1600/Post+cards+Gibraltar.jpg" height="256" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Postcard of Gilbraltar from Aunty Glad's Suitcase</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</o:p><br />
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<b><i>June 21</i></b> <o:p></o:p></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Passed Eddystone Lighthouse and were very interested
watching drifters (fishing boats) at work, and scanning the distant shores of
England. At 11.a.m. the sound of the
anchor dropping brought all hands on deck at the double to find themselves in
Plymouth Harbour. One can imagine the
excitement that reigned when we were ordered to get ready to land at once. We were anchored out in midstream, and were
disembarked on the Sir Walter Raleigh, from which we were transferred to land.
It was great to get to shore after being couped up on board for nearly eight
weeks. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We were all lined up
with our kit bags on our shoulders and marched to the train. There was nothing to growl at as regards the
travelling accommodation. We were put
into third class carriages, which to my mind are equal if not better than
Australian second-class and were allowed a fair amount of room, only eight men
being put into each compartment. Leaving
the station we passed some very pretty scenery.
The country was looking at its best.
One has only to get into his mind’s eye an old fashioned farmhouse, with
a thatched roof and white washed walls, surrounded by trees and shrubs, with
nice green fields, dotted with poppies and buttercups, and each little farm was
surrounded with dark green hedges. There are no fences, with a well-kept road
or drive running up to the door. This
will give some idea of what we saw.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3JUx3TKVSmUvHBHqh_V6MGGQXoMAIRD_ayCWwu4I6UWyqDBzh-gT6-WvExWKcqsNX18MvWRmm66ZqK5gPR_1jdg9DpAq5ga2Y4uYrIZ4TX-u8o0XRVvDN_G1uVVl0VK4MHYIB4IQCH_T/s1600/Post+Cards+-+salsbury+cathederal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3JUx3TKVSmUvHBHqh_V6MGGQXoMAIRD_ayCWwu4I6UWyqDBzh-gT6-WvExWKcqsNX18MvWRmm66ZqK5gPR_1jdg9DpAq5ga2Y4uYrIZ4TX-u8o0XRVvDN_G1uVVl0VK4MHYIB4IQCH_T/s1600/Post+Cards+-+salsbury+cathederal.jpg" height="400" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Postcard of Church in Salisbury</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">At nearly every village we passed the people were gathered
in groups, waving and cheering as if they were welcoming us back from some
victorious battle, while in reality we were only coming in to be trained.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The friendly manner in which the home people
treated us went a long way towards making us forget what we had left behind,
and made us feel at home, and I can safely say that all our boys appreciated
their kind thoughts and actions. They
think a lot of the Australians. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Our
first stop was Exeter, about 50 miles from Plymouth, where another welcome
surprise waited us. As soon as the train
stopped every man jack made a bold bid for the refreshment room, but were
stopped by our officers, who told us to get what we wanted from the stalls that
were distributed along the platform.
Then there was a rush back to our carriages to get our water bottles,
which were then filled with nice hot tea.
Each man was then handed a paper-bag with buns and cakes in it. Also a card from the Mayoress of Exeter and
committee, wishing us all good luck.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That was about the most pleasant surprise up till now that
we had have had. Leaving Exeter we
continued our journey arriving at Amesbury at 10 minutes past twilight. On detraining we were formed up and marched
to No. 1 Camp, Lark Hill, Salisbury Plain, arriving there at 12.15 p.m. After being told off to our respective huts
we were issued with bully beef and biscuits.
It was a rough and ready feed, but we all enjoyed it, after which we settled
down for a few hours rest. We were up
about 7.a.m. next morning, and out taking bearings of our new surroundings,
which we soon picked up.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bROF2Cr2rQSTtg2MqbtBmevKGAGPmfoQ17mKp5orDVQRW51kUhI42r7LzW6j0h07u14MZ1sRrm_OlRwbgL9-vugP-cYGBvD7u_JrbRG354137GJgJwdz4GA-KirfXczaooZbj6zkz96w/s1600/large_postcards-Lark+Hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bROF2Cr2rQSTtg2MqbtBmevKGAGPmfoQ17mKp5orDVQRW51kUhI42r7LzW6j0h07u14MZ1sRrm_OlRwbgL9-vugP-cYGBvD7u_JrbRG354137GJgJwdz4GA-KirfXczaooZbj6zkz96w/s1600/large_postcards-Lark+Hill.jpg" height="255" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Postcard - Lark Hill Training Camp</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The first place we found was the Y.M.C.A. refreshment hut,
and we quite surprised the attendants with the orders that we give for
breakfast. They were quite amused to
watch us having an ordinary meal, which they thought was quite enough for four
of five Tommies. Coming back from the Y.M.C.A. we turned to and made our
sleeping quarters as comfortable as possible.
Next day being Sunday most of the boys went for a tour of inspection round
the villages, where we found many item to interest us. We hope to have another look round later on,
but for the present we have to go to hard graft, and get ourselves fit for the
job that we came over to do. We recognise
since speaking to thousands that have come back from the frond what a task it
is, but complete victory we want and complete victory we are sure to get, cost
what it may.”*</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKJntxrb2we12RC1FtzXBMgTplCgQ_eVdwL97Xfu27eGqoWbgC0TwE25Pp8yoMynTxnvRPQe0mCVjiapIcrblIiIsp5puDr1A1PBrMfWdrmAYRIs08zcAxZVddsJL5d1MMG6igo22neyf/s1600/Post+Cards+old+oak+tree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKJntxrb2we12RC1FtzXBMgTplCgQ_eVdwL97Xfu27eGqoWbgC0TwE25Pp8yoMynTxnvRPQe0mCVjiapIcrblIiIsp5puDr1A1PBrMfWdrmAYRIs08zcAxZVddsJL5d1MMG6igo22neyf/s1600/Post+Cards+old+oak+tree.jpg" height="231" width="400" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQSc_DaTFa9v3C2Io1WtLOSDATImAcRiTbumbnpoY3_NQ2KtoGUgdx-eemXRGYmbnttkXK0iouZ-g1VWDqSX_BzDsooMDmKyrftN89III3cLAY0i26A_9o_GI7zUC8_BGM5pxwcRCb3R6/s1600/Post+Cards+-+back+old+oak+tree+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzQSc_DaTFa9v3C2Io1WtLOSDATImAcRiTbumbnpoY3_NQ2KtoGUgdx-eemXRGYmbnttkXK0iouZ-g1VWDqSX_BzDsooMDmKyrftN89III3cLAY0i26A_9o_GI7zUC8_BGM5pxwcRCb3R6/s1600/Post+Cards+-+back+old+oak+tree+.jpg" height="231" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Card sent back from Malcolm Shepherd to his family from Salisbury, the village near Lark Hill where he was stationed.</span></td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">____________</span></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: #bde5ac; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; text-align: start;">*</span><span style="background: rgb(250, 250, 225); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 12.8400001525879px; text-align: start;">1916 'BOYS OF THE 34th.',<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>The Maitland Weekly Mercury</i>(NSW : 1894 - 1931), 30 December, p. 10, viewed 16 November, 2014,</span><a href="http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article128039051" style="background-color: #bde5ac; color: #7c93a1; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; text-align: start; text-decoration: none;"><span style="background: rgb(250, 250, 225); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 12.8400001525879px;">http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article128039051</span></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-35925757073597015232014-11-24T03:19:00.000-08:002015-04-21T02:34:35.102-07:00Military Monday - More Treasures from Aunty Glad's Suitcase<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0yUpuJso0j2XVr_hyphenhyphen4A3zJiTg1RBPk2TnezfCFBSTV-wdekciqakZy2lfJp633fQS4VSVUcZ_Qg5SYRqWHepXDkdBE8N7ZqPgUPvvcSqo68nt1rBNGEHk4cdsmHs4xWH9xwS7nQEVo99/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj0yUpuJso0j2XVr_hyphenhyphen4A3zJiTg1RBPk2TnezfCFBSTV-wdekciqakZy2lfJp633fQS4VSVUcZ_Qg5SYRqWHepXDkdBE8N7ZqPgUPvvcSqo68nt1rBNGEHk4cdsmHs4xWH9xwS7nQEVo99/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" height="191" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunty Glad's Suitcase</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This blog continues on with the story of <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/military-monday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Micheal Shepherd's </a>journey with the 30th and 34th Battalion on the ship Hororata, from Sydney to England, told through they eyes of Corporal Crossingham and illustrated with pictures and postcards from Aunty Glad's Suitcase.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Corporal Crossingham continues with his dry humour, describing visiting the different ports, the joys of being able to buy fresh fruit, along with tales of some very dubious meals on board the ship. As his story continues, you begin to feel a little of their sense of uneasiness of what lies in the future for them, their relief at not being based in the dessert and the impact of their first sight of Gilbralta.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Continuing Corporal Crossingham's Story:</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>"May 24</b> –Arrived at Colombo and here we were allowed to go
ashore. Had a route march, and were
taken out to the Garrison Barracks where we could purchase any amount of fruit
at reasonable prices. Pineapples only
cost 3d a piece, coconuts 3 for 6d, bananas, 1 /- per bunch of anything from
50 t up to 100. The Y.M.C.A. had a
refreshment stall there where one could get cakes 1d each, soft drinks 2d, tea,
coffee or cocoa 1d per pot, cold boiled eggs 1d each, and sandwiches 2d. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i> We were allowed to have one beer there, and
to make sure we go no more we were issued with tickets which cost 3d without
which we were not supposed to get a drink at all, but the boys soon found out that
“where there’s a will there’s a way”, with the result that we all had a merry
time. It was very interesting to watch
the coolies at work. They will do almost
anything for money. They are very good
workers, and especially when there is a rope end handy. It was very laughable to watch them having
their meals, which consisted of boiled rice with liquid curry poured over it,
served out to them on palm leaves, cut into small squares about 12 inches by 12
inches. Once a day they get a banana as
an extra.</i></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xYKb1Q_Jk2Zm3cjWjLniG7DAzk1wj2Fo5Z-v53kQKCqrirKcSbmVba_ZGStw8Vl7KO01fhFXTlUvpiBbnWXoiufYR14U3heBUd3Su3VwAdAGN9JOl5nGnl9H1ws4hsla5pCgURiFInsy/s1600/Photo0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0xYKb1Q_Jk2Zm3cjWjLniG7DAzk1wj2Fo5Z-v53kQKCqrirKcSbmVba_ZGStw8Vl7KO01fhFXTlUvpiBbnWXoiufYR14U3heBUd3Su3VwAdAGN9JOl5nGnl9H1ws4hsla5pCgURiFInsy/s1600/Photo0025.JPG" height="400" width="257" /></i></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Malcolm Shepherd (LHS) and fellow soldiers</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><o:p></o:p></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 26</b> – Left Colombo, when the coolies became very excited,
and shouted “good-bye” till they were quite hoarse.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 1</b> – Great excitement caused by the announcement that
there was a plum duff for dinner But the
shock when it came, I am quite satisfied all our boys do not suffer with a weak
heart. A man dare not show his head
above the edge of the table for fear he would draw the fire on himself and when
the pieces began to fly they rattled on the ship’s side like bottles breaking
on a brick wall. Someone suggested
praying for it, but he was ruled out of order, as we decided it was past
redemption<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 3</b> – Sunday morning. Attended church parade. Sighted land at noon. Passed the Bay of Aden on the Arabian Coast on
the starboard side and the African Coast on the port. Great interest was shown
by the boys watching thousands of porpoises playing about Aden.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 4</b> – Sighted a small town called Monkka, which, I was
told, was famous for coffee making.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 5</b> – passed the Twelve Apostles which is a group of 12
rocks rising up out of the sea.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 8</b> – Caught our first glimpse of the much talked of
Egypt at 8 a.m.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 9</b> – Anchored in Port Suez. At 2 p.m. weighed anchor and
entered Suez Canal. I am told that all troops
that came over before us were allowed ashore to strength their legs, but for
some reason or other we were not allowed to do so. It was very interesting going through the
Canal. It is well guarded day and
night. Here and there in isolated spots
one can see a small patch of grass struggling for life, or else a few reeds
growing on the edge of the canal. With
that exception all one could see was one long strength of sand, white and
glistening with camps of troops dotted here and there over the desert. No one was more pleased that I when we were
told that we had to proceed to Alexandria.
The sight of that vast stretch of sand and the temperature was quite
sufficient for me. All the boys who had
the bad luck to be stationed there have the sympathy of every one on board our
boat. The Canal is reckoned to be 34
miles long and takes 16 hours to do a trip through, as boats are not allowed to
travel any faster than 5 miles per hour on account of the was doing damage to
the banks. Leaving the Canal we came
along to Port Said, arriving there about 7.30 am. Port Said presents a very
busy scene by what one can see from the boat.
It is a hurry and scurry, small pleasure boats rowing about everywhere.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 11</b> – Leaving Port Said we went on to Alexandria. As soon as we left Port we were ordered to
don life belts and were never without them till we arrived at Plymouth. They were worn all day, and even slept in
them. It was a very queer sensation to
wake up the first morning and find a life belt hanging to one’s neck by a piece
of tape. It made one feel as if one had
been having a night out, and did not remember what had taken place before
retiring.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 12</b> – Arrived in Alexandria, which looks similar to Port
Said, the only difference being that the buildings do not seem to be so close together,
and it is cleaner in appearances. We
were now formed up and marched off the Hororata and around to the Aragon, which
had been waiting for us for some days.
There were already about 700 troops on board from Egypt. When on board the Hororata we were praying
for a change of boats. But what a change
it was when we did get it. We simply
wished we were back on board the old home once more. For we were out of the frying pan into the
fire. We were packed like sardines in a
tine and no room for all at that. It was
a good job for us that we did not have a very long time to put in before getting
to our journey’s end. It was very seldom
that we got bread that was not sour, and not too much of it either. The Aragon is a fine boat in appearance, but
for tucker and accommodation it has a lot to pull up. We left Alexandria on the 13<sup>th</sup>.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 14</b> – Passed the Island of Crete at 2 a.m when we were
picked up by a new escort.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 15</b> – Passed along the coast of Greece following in the wake
of our escort.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>June 17</b> – Arrived at the great fortified rock,
Gibraltar. One has only to glance at
with its guns bristling from every nook and crevice, and it will be realized
what an impregnable barrier it really forms.
Coming in from the sea all one can see is a great bare rock rising up
out of the sea with a few guns mounted here and there. But when the boat comes around the Rock to
the entrance and one gets a rear view it downs on one that there is danger
behind that great rugged rock." *</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-7Nhta47K6rBhtTEF6v8KA2f668AjQdWcNAOkXHibudIIbrWEpYuxPoUGStN15CgCFfu0yRTI5Dx6aLI47UgIYmvbRPKZ7X0vlqFDui6VGYS2YGbBb_KPHtTbcuPuHtgcDr3DxPRx7Pc/s1600/Post+cards+7+-+Gibralta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-7Nhta47K6rBhtTEF6v8KA2f668AjQdWcNAOkXHibudIIbrWEpYuxPoUGStN15CgCFfu0yRTI5Dx6aLI47UgIYmvbRPKZ7X0vlqFDui6VGYS2YGbBb_KPHtTbcuPuHtgcDr3DxPRx7Pc/s1600/Post+cards+7+-+Gibralta.jpg" height="416" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post Card from Aunty Glad's suitcase - Gibraltar<br />
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<o:p>This must have been a formidable sight to the young <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shepherd</a>, the young "carrier" from the small country town of Braidwood. You can only imagine the feeling of the unknown and foreboding these young soldiers were experiencing. </o:p></div>
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<o:p>_____________</o:p></div>
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<o:p> </o:p><span style="background-color: #bde5ac; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px;">*</span><span style="background: rgb(250, 250, 225); color: #222222; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 12.8400001525879px;">1916 'BOYS OF THE 34th.',<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>The Maitland Weekly Mercury</i>(NSW : 1894 - 1931), 30 December, p. 10, viewed 16 November, 2014,</span><a href="http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article128039051" style="background-color: #bde5ac; color: #7c93a1; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.4799995422363px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="background: rgb(250, 250, 225); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 12.8400001525879px;">http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article128039051</span></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-61689466165409159212014-11-17T02:53:00.001-08:002014-11-17T04:20:38.737-08:00Military Monday - Treasures from Aunty Glad's Suitcase<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaj0mVAtw6vcO6nnZ-zl6NfQx0QL0XS8v1Nv-JDAvDjwwCZ3V2BhGKumoePrFZzROXbMMp2yP0OED6_WXbH9enhGk7cix52yCtCrdq5fQIBOF4RGMHR-AEQanWIy8ZunPPnLlOzLJODJsW/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaj0mVAtw6vcO6nnZ-zl6NfQx0QL0XS8v1Nv-JDAvDjwwCZ3V2BhGKumoePrFZzROXbMMp2yP0OED6_WXbH9enhGk7cix52yCtCrdq5fQIBOF4RGMHR-AEQanWIy8ZunPPnLlOzLJODJsW/s1600/Image-1+(5).jpg" height="191" width="200" /></a></div>
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Among the wonderful collection of pictures and postcards in <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/11/sentimental-sunday-treasures-from-aunty.html" target="_blank">Aunty Glad's suitcases,</a> are a number of post cards from Malcolm Shepherd and Angus Shepherd, sent to family on their way to and during their service time in WWI.</div>
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<a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shepherd</a> was the first of the two brothers, from the small NSW town of Braidwood to enlist and head to Europe. He enlisted on 31st January 1916 at Casula as a member of the 7th Reinforcement of the 30th Battalion and on the 2 May 1916, left Sydney on the troop ship <i>Honorata</i> with other members of the 30th and 34th Battalion. In this post I would like to share two post cards sent to his family as he started his journey.</div>
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To find out a little more about his journey I thought I would search TROVE to see if there was any information on the ship Hororata and the 30th Battalion. I was lucky enough to come across a number of letters from members of the 34th Battalion who were also travelling on the <i>Honorata. </i>One of the letters from Corporal Crossingham written to his mother in West Maitland, from Lark Hill Camp, Salisbury Plain in England gives a detailed and sometimes amusing account of the journey from Sydney, to Western Australia, across the Indian Ocean, through the Suez Canal to Alexandria then passed Gilbraltar and up to England. Reading his letter home, has really added context to the post cards sent by Malcolm Shepherd and really gives you a sense of the trip these young inexperienced men made to the other side of the world and certainly brings me closer to my grandfathers experiences. </div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Corporal Crossingham, writes:*</i></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>"May 2</b>. Steamed out of Woolloomooloo Bay at 4 p.m. on board
troopship Honorata. After pulling out
from the wharf we anchored in mid-stream.
From then on till we left we put in time saying our last goodbyes to all
those who we are leaving behind.
Although all the boys kept the good old Australian smile on their faces,
I am sure there were plenty of our chaps who had a tough job to keep a straight face.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>After the anchor was weighed and we began to
move we had more to occupy our minds.
The first feed that we had on board will long be remembered by the boys
of the 34<sup>th</sup>. It consisted of
frozen zeps (sausages) and dry bread, and the zeps were promptly counted out,
and tea was served in the shape of half cooked stew and the proverbial pieces
of dry bread. Between dinner time and
tea we were given our hammocks and blankets.
The hammocks had to be folded up with the blankets inside and placed in
tins build for that purpose. All hammocks
to be in tins by 7 a.m. every morning.
The sleeping decks had also to be washed out every morning. The majority of the boys slept on the under-deck
hammock hanging over the dinner tables.
Frequently during the first couple of nights one could hear some chaps
rising colonial lingo after falling out of bunk, but they quickly became used
to them. As regards to myself, I
generally slept up on the deck, rolled in a blanket and waterproof sheet.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHVzmFekwNlgfS_LufNGhDdxuX4GE0lYxCE5b3O5zHkBaXJhnlK12-v0_Z26dkFBIs_ZZFpVbsb1oDQ_T4ISKdLobKCWvYEtlfg6VqXoMOkM2NLuSfGxvk21LauKXgzPnanjP5qP9pgQ0/s1600/18-05-2014+2;45;16+PM+a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHHVzmFekwNlgfS_LufNGhDdxuX4GE0lYxCE5b3O5zHkBaXJhnlK12-v0_Z26dkFBIs_ZZFpVbsb1oDQ_T4ISKdLobKCWvYEtlfg6VqXoMOkM2NLuSfGxvk21LauKXgzPnanjP5qP9pgQ0/s1600/18-05-2014+2;45;16+PM+a.jpg" height="400" width="230" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture of Malcolm Shepherd </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 4</b> – We experienced a bi of rough weather, just enough to
make some of the boys feel queer in their “little Mary”. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 6 </b>– Today we were introduced to boat parade. A crew of our boys were told off to man the
boats in case of emergency, to fall in the respective places allotted to them. The remainder to fall in below decks and put
on life belts. This parade general
lasted about half an hour.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 7</b> – There was a medical inspection of all troops on
board. From the sixth to the ninth
everyone was very busy writing letters so as to get them posted when we arrived
at Albany.</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 9</b> - Arrived at
Albany, were our first mail was posted since leaving he bay. The mail boat Katoomba came into harbour
while were there and left before we did.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 11</b> – Weighed anchor and left Albany, passing the
troopship Marathon when leaving we were not allowed to land at Albany. Some of the officers went ashore
however. All port holes were left open, with
the result that when a bigger sea than usual came long all kit bags, clothes,
etc that were anywhere, within range were treated to a salt water both The tucker now is a trifle better than at
first, although it has plenty of room for improvement. We get a little butter and jam. We do not get tea for dinner but are given
beef tea instead. Every third day they
issue pea soup that is passable – any rate we get rid of it. From now on we are to have sports at
different intervals for the rest of the trip.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>The first to be carried out was a boxing tournament between a number of
the boys, on the 13<sup>th</sup>, which was finally won by Sox McKinnon. Capt. Spot Spowart throwing the towel
in. Capt. Wheeler was referee, Lieut. Col
Lamb and Capt Winn acted as judges. From
the first Sunday out for the reminder of the voyage we had church parade."</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><span style="color: #660000;">(This piece I found particularly interesting because of the post card below, which was sent by Malcolm to his brother Angus. The post card shows him on the left hand side of the picture in a boxing competition on the ship.)</span> </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uPsKEj2z5nDgqIRA5aVDx-b9_YHpmPvkafC8gfaSmhk8biABi5RjF3nflPRmVKQIFvDAfvTPjy_lXlDRhmvU_2LeleiEEkOfZ9_26xnmunLMVjd185crB-CrfULoivrC0Uuixoufs7kC/s1600/Photos+6+-+back+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uPsKEj2z5nDgqIRA5aVDx-b9_YHpmPvkafC8gfaSmhk8biABi5RjF3nflPRmVKQIFvDAfvTPjy_lXlDRhmvU_2LeleiEEkOfZ9_26xnmunLMVjd185crB-CrfULoivrC0Uuixoufs7kC/s1600/Photos+6+-+back+(2).jpg" height="258" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lgCLUTcWfFX44jXOQJ5Uhn4M9cDO4Dn_mjYe0MZ3qeIs-MOekjJuiypr4UAJN4v7pWH-BOkEMJPIMGDntyvwO20eFWHXqEyVr4cxR0BkRJ9hqbJ8LzERUcjcoSrP813ZZl1uVNcDP8pu/s1600/Photos+6+-+front+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9lgCLUTcWfFX44jXOQJ5Uhn4M9cDO4Dn_mjYe0MZ3qeIs-MOekjJuiypr4UAJN4v7pWH-BOkEMJPIMGDntyvwO20eFWHXqEyVr4cxR0BkRJ9hqbJ8LzERUcjcoSrP813ZZl1uVNcDP8pu/s1600/Photos+6+-+front+(2).jpg" height="260" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Card from Malcolm Shepherd to his brother Angus </td></tr>
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The letter continues with some very vivid descriptions of the food on board the ship!</div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>"May 12</b> – Crossed into the Indian Ocean. The food now became very bad owing to the
tropical weather. Sausages were again
condemned by the doctor, and beef treated in the same manner, and the steak was
absolutely rotten, and refused by the men who at once formed a procession and
marched it to the doctor who pronounced life extinct, and a the last post was
sounded it was committed to the deep, amid much pomp and ceremony, but it was
not finished with even then, for the sharks and albatrosses went on strike, and
absolutely refused to follow the boat. I
suppose it was on account of the poor quality of the tucker that was thrown
overboard.</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 18</b> – We passed Cocos Island, but not close enough to see
anything of it.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b>May 22</b> – We crossed the “Line” and as Farther Neptune did
not depart from his usual custom we had him on board, and the fun began. A canvas tub was fixed up about 10 ft by 10 ft
by 3 ft deep, and slung at the four corners from awning spars. A party of chaps too charge and every man
that passed that way received a dip, regardless of what clothes he had on. Only a few of the boys escaped it. The only two officers who fell into the trap
were Lieut. Bennett and Major Foxall, but they took it all in good part. At any rate, it was “Hobson’s choice.”</i></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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I don't know about you, but I think this letter really brings to life the journey that my grandfather and his fellow troops had embarked on and I look forward to sharing more of this story with pictures from Aunty Glad's suitcase in my next post. </div>
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*<span style="background: rgb(250, 250, 225); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 107%;">1916 'BOYS OF THE 34th.',<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>The Maitland Weekly Mercury</i>(NSW
: 1894 - 1931), 30 December, p. 10, viewed 16 November, 2014, </span><a href="http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article128039051"><span style="background: #FAFAE1; font-family: "Arial",sans-serif; font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 107%;">http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article128039051</span></a></div>
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<span style="background: rgb(250, 250, 225); font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-63492281782680154602014-11-16T01:45:00.000-08:002014-11-16T01:45:04.844-08:00Sentimental Sunday - Treasures from Aunty Glad's Suitcase <div style="text-align: left;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsh6o-i8Rk0RjA_gy2_KKtmjlTLkkkoji0OEZpprrNK5SEaJqhc9tbMMPJKcIkTfQUdcLg8hnZB_u0svpbO1CNWbEDfFb13R7pD7F7F-ShZKUFfOm-jgKcP4YvifqipAVtM1nVTlJETec3/s1600/132+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsh6o-i8Rk0RjA_gy2_KKtmjlTLkkkoji0OEZpprrNK5SEaJqhc9tbMMPJKcIkTfQUdcLg8hnZB_u0svpbO1CNWbEDfFb13R7pD7F7F-ShZKUFfOm-jgKcP4YvifqipAVtM1nVTlJETec3/s1600/132+(1).jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Treasures from Anty Glad's Suitcase</td></tr>
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Earlier this year I was delighted to meet some of my cousins at the "B<a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/05/thankful-thursday-back-to-braidwood-175.html" target="_blank">ack to Braidwood 175 Year" Celebration</a>, and to swap and share family photos and stories. I am sure all family researchers will be familiar with that "thrill" you get when you come across a previously unknown collection of pictures, artifacts, letters or a diary that are related to your family history. This meeting in Braidwood was certainly "up there" in my family tree discoveries experiences.</div>
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My cousin, Stephen, bought with him a collection of family pictures, photos, post cards and artifacts from "Aunty Glad's suitcase" which had been sitting under the spare bed for quite some time. It put it lightly, I was "gobsmacked" at the bundle of documents that my cousin had to show me. They included a collection of postcards from his grandfather and my grandfather, <a href="http://worldwidegenealogy.blogspot.com.au/2014/08/world-war-i-relic-of-some-significance.html" target="_blank">Angus</a> and <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Shepherd</a> while they in Europe fighting in WW1, family photos from the <a href="http://www.visitbraidwood.com.au/" target="_blank">Braidwood</a> and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nelligen,_New_South_Wales" target="_blank">Nelligen </a>district, maps and artifacts from WWI. </div>
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My cousin kindly sent me some photos of Aunty Glad's suitcase, and small black handbag, overflowing with family memorabilia. Another Wow!!! It is obvious that my great Aunty Gladys treasured family memories, and her collection includes photos, postcards, letters, telegrams, tram tickets, photos and magazines that are cover a time span of more than 100 years. </div>
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Great Aunty Glad, was married to Angus Shepherd, my grandfather <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shephered'</a>s older brother. After consulting with my cousin I thought if it was ok with his family, I would share some of the wonderful documents from Aunty Glad's suitcase with a little of their related history. So watch this space for "Treasures from Aunty Glad's Suitcase".</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-41895544875320178552014-10-26T03:06:00.000-07:002014-11-01T21:22:06.571-07:00Sentimental Sunday - Grandparents Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrkeSBKKCnlkJTlLyAkA0IQLtLFlmuB9UhTTd9DUu6NNYMOT4BAHo2ZxodqfKd03DGjy_LrvALgvCfzfjQId4mwSmdOGSKzJ6GJ90lEFHMCvsrPzc3Fo1swn7fF8X99Api2ARm39LAuhU/s1600/grandparentsday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsrkeSBKKCnlkJTlLyAkA0IQLtLFlmuB9UhTTd9DUu6NNYMOT4BAHo2ZxodqfKd03DGjy_LrvALgvCfzfjQId4mwSmdOGSKzJ6GJ90lEFHMCvsrPzc3Fo1swn7fF8X99Api2ARm39LAuhU/s1600/grandparentsday.jpg" height="140" width="640" /></a></div>
Today's post is inspired by an article that I saw on this morning's news which advised that today was <a href="http://www.grandparentsday.org.au/" target="_blank">Grandparents Day.</a> "Everyone has fond memories of being at their Nan and Pop's place its where you go to get the kind of love that only a grandparent can give. This year Grandparents Day celebrates our memories of being at home with out grandparents.<br />
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My grandparents lived in very different environments. My maternal Grandparents, <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/a-short-story-of-life-as-wife-and.html" target="_blank">Edna and Roy</a> Herbert lived in the outback mining town of Broken Hill, and my N<a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/my-memories-of-nanna-christina-carriage.html" target="_blank">anna, Christina Carriage and Pop , Lionel Carriage (step grandfather) l</a>ived in the small coastal town of <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/05/sentimental-sunday-56-wason-street.html" target="_blank">Milton</a>. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPIdP7n1wzokB16_9IAYTe8yl4S5c-vcdlwMhgbRK1djjo9XDRv3P30R1rFzIPEiTEfB4SCYuvJWL2PqmffYZJvDdYpEE_XjnAA7LCsupKUS4_vO2DoNvdA2OnTw6Q_7GgZrryazGZOun/s1600/Herberts+Wedding+Photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDPIdP7n1wzokB16_9IAYTe8yl4S5c-vcdlwMhgbRK1djjo9XDRv3P30R1rFzIPEiTEfB4SCYuvJWL2PqmffYZJvDdYpEE_XjnAA7LCsupKUS4_vO2DoNvdA2OnTw6Q_7GgZrryazGZOun/s1600/Herberts+Wedding+Photo.jpg" height="268" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edna Palin and Roy Herbert - on their Wedding Day in Broken Hill, NSW</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_JQOXRB4zz2dU2MiJHKahyNq_H-ZsmAonXzOLkdO6xSrdZQJDQODSSbowq97zhGvYdhamhj6Wx3brKE8-sJ2vnJSKWCOrHV9OMhlW2bJNaGYmQD0-sOqpwv3be577Dj2LriQK1Lwh2Ty/s1600/58+McGowan+Street,+Broken+Hill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_JQOXRB4zz2dU2MiJHKahyNq_H-ZsmAonXzOLkdO6xSrdZQJDQODSSbowq97zhGvYdhamhj6Wx3brKE8-sJ2vnJSKWCOrHV9OMhlW2bJNaGYmQD0-sOqpwv3be577Dj2LriQK1Lwh2Ty/s1600/58+McGowan+Street,+Broken+Hill.jpg" height="443" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Herbert Home, 58 McGowan Street, Broken Hill</td></tr>
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Edna and Roy passed away when I was quite a young child so my memories of their home is quite dim. However, I do have some memories of being there as a young child, when my mother stayed to help look after my grandfather, when my grandmother was in hospital. I remember a very bare and dusty back yard with a corrugated tin fence that backed onto a lane way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPS98mLOBeYNJSFBmhuMSj5iGNOCN_lalSDQYK9pD9Kq6gb3g0K5WufD3HkgOuF6-L4vih3HJHhlr0qm3d8PiYW4pvRf47649yPMlqBYZdbQaSIZYd66x_apYq3jeXi4QLN3HpeMvcJMGG/s1600/Christina+and+Lionel+Carriage,+side+of+house+wason+st.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPS98mLOBeYNJSFBmhuMSj5iGNOCN_lalSDQYK9pD9Kq6gb3g0K5WufD3HkgOuF6-L4vih3HJHhlr0qm3d8PiYW4pvRf47649yPMlqBYZdbQaSIZYd66x_apYq3jeXi4QLN3HpeMvcJMGG/s1600/Christina+and+Lionel+Carriage,+side+of+house+wason+st.jpg" height="400" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nanna and Pop Carriage</td></tr>
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My paternal Grandparents were <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/my-memories-of-nanna-christina-carriage.html" target="_blank">Christina Lee</a> and <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/trans-tasman-anzac-day-blog-challenge.html" target="_blank">Malcolm Michael Shepherd</a>. However, my Grandfather passed away after a logging accident in 1932 and my Christina remarried Lionel Carriage, so we grew up visiting Nanna and Pop Carriage in the small diary town of Milton on the South Coast of NSW. </div>
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We regularly spent Christmas at their home, with all our cousins, Aunts and Uncles, playing in the big magnolia tree out the front of the house, putting on concerts on the front veranda, exploring the neighbouring fields and lane ways and spending lots of time on the nearby beaches.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbW8Xn0TXm4aRQ43lgYwYS8yb2lNZ2wA0pu76bGtXruDIZZiwdKqRZLFcYOjXdrWCL3bEqxpnp89o9FE3ZW3vxceb_IXCHXQQTKAjmnIlf-wuEZTYu1tqTweRAs5LZdLvZxtOd_Z5vhFP/s1600/56+Wason+Street+Milton+-+Leo+Carraige+out+the+front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvbW8Xn0TXm4aRQ43lgYwYS8yb2lNZ2wA0pu76bGtXruDIZZiwdKqRZLFcYOjXdrWCL3bEqxpnp89o9FE3ZW3vxceb_IXCHXQQTKAjmnIlf-wuEZTYu1tqTweRAs5LZdLvZxtOd_Z5vhFP/s1600/56+Wason+Street+Milton+-+Leo+Carraige+out+the+front.jpg" height="442" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nanna and Pop's home in Milton</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-38344345735875228022014-09-29T04:19:00.000-07:002014-09-29T05:32:51.703-07:00Thank you for your "One Lovely Blog " Nominations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3Bkr46t1xzJRZn0iVixPnR6qbMO73qF-5Nfx5N_f9fpTbseyLZAwJzMrX4zfgLaxA4E47LTNP0DghROmDUQIhIbKAetXXQzbTmyFQuLcmRlIpaJJqZqiWi3T9UqWCnfrC1ZSTR0ulsNJ/s1600/one-lovely-blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL3Bkr46t1xzJRZn0iVixPnR6qbMO73qF-5Nfx5N_f9fpTbseyLZAwJzMrX4zfgLaxA4E47LTNP0DghROmDUQIhIbKAetXXQzbTmyFQuLcmRlIpaJJqZqiWi3T9UqWCnfrC1ZSTR0ulsNJ/s1600/one-lovely-blog.jpg" height="400" width="367" /></a></div>
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Last week I was delighted to receive two"One Lovely Blog" Nominations. It is very nice to receive a little acknowledgement, especially, when I consider myself to be one of those amateur, part-time and a little inconsistent blogger! <b>It is now my turn to pay it forward! </b></div>
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<i><b>The rules for the "Lovely Blog Award" are</b></i><br />
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<li><i> Thank the person who nominated you and link back to that blog</i></li>
<li><i> Share seven things abut yourself.</i></li>
<li><i> Nominate 15 bloggers you admire, or as many as you can think of.</i></li>
<li><i> Contact your bloggers to let them know you have tagged them for The One Lovely Blog Award.</i></li>
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Firstly, I would like to thank Sharn White whose blog, <a href="http://www.sharnsgenealogyhints.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">"Family History 4U"</a>, I have enjoyed for some time. Secondly, thank you to Niki Davis who writes about heritage food and her family tree, in "<a href="http://rootedinfoods.com/" target="_blank">Rooted in Foods</a>", this theme is very close to my heart, as I enjoy sharing old family recipes and the stories that go with them. Thank you to both of you for your nominations and sharing some of the blogs you follow, your lists introduced me to some new and interesting blogs that I hadn't read before.</div>
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<b><i>Seven things about me</i></b><br />
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1. <i><b>Family</b></i> - the promotion a sense of family and belonging is very important to me. I think this is in part, responsible for my love of family stories and genealogy. I also think it is important to promote and nurture the "sense" of family. My husband and I have just had a wonderful week looking after our grandsons (aged 9 and 5), such a special time, OH! I forgot to add also exhausting! <br />
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2. <b><i>Childhood</i></b> - I had an interesting and little different childhood, spending my early childhood growing up in the outback of NSW, doing my schooling by Blackfriars Correspondence School and the Broken Hill, School of the Air until I was ten years old. Our family then moved around country NSW, my father working as an overseer on properties. My sisters and I attended a variety of schools, from small two classroom school, of Quombone with about 70 students, to much larger high school at Griffith where there were around 1600 students.<br />
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3. <i><b>Reading</b></i> - I have always loved reading, when I was a young girl living in the bush, reading was a way to discover the rest of the world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQNBdGiklEpPuQcqoP0C7BqSzP-6o35qvns0bdSXK9by-Y_abYw1Veq5_MccalYDTA06X2y6VVIt2i7BrG-KmYCEQUEVqsZEoA9Zivbaq0j9piC5DTyRq_1dScHFFdofdk_ONDrU7AcGq/s1600/Tequila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQNBdGiklEpPuQcqoP0C7BqSzP-6o35qvns0bdSXK9by-Y_abYw1Veq5_MccalYDTA06X2y6VVIt2i7BrG-KmYCEQUEVqsZEoA9Zivbaq0j9piC5DTyRq_1dScHFFdofdk_ONDrU7AcGq/s1600/Tequila.jpg" height="296" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tequila, Mexico</td></tr>
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4. <b><i>Writing</i></b> - I have only really starting writing in the past few years, blogging opened this door for me. When I was studying at Uni about six years ago, one of the subjects I studied was on social media and how it could be used in training. One section was on blogging and I was hooked. My first attempts at blogging was when I lived in Mexico for six months while I completed my Masters in International Studies. My blog "<a href="http://6mesesenmexico.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Six Months in Mexico"</a> was a way I could share and reflect on my experiences. It was really just a diary of my time in Guadalajara, Mexico, however, I loved medium and was encouraged to explore it further.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRd6arz9Fv4TOIyYipF8r6SqfghrfMYK1aaxqlyM-93fBVYRs2K7Nko6cHZKoiJinluVCckv-Bagyaajb383jhXe6T4nzctqAeQ5-E78ZXBYNghJYvHl6j79ASqA01GBPGpv2gsTSQXQ6B/s1600/Nepal+219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRd6arz9Fv4TOIyYipF8r6SqfghrfMYK1aaxqlyM-93fBVYRs2K7Nko6cHZKoiJinluVCckv-Bagyaajb383jhXe6T4nzctqAeQ5-E78ZXBYNghJYvHl6j79ASqA01GBPGpv2gsTSQXQ6B/s1600/Nepal+219.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nepal</td></tr>
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5. <i><b>Photography</b></i> - I love to mess around with my camera and have the reputation of being the annoying lady taking all the photos at family events. My attempts at travel blogs have been one way I have been able to share my pics and experiences. My philosophy on for photography is just take lots of pictures and among the thousands there will be a couple that look ok. You can find some of my pics on my "incomplete" blog on one of my adventures, <a href="http://climbinghighnepal.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Nepal - Climbing High</a>.</div>
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6. <b><i>Travel</i></b> - I have always like to travel. I think this started when I was in my early twenties, when my girlfriend and I set off on a three month backpacking trip around Europe in the late 1970's. Two very green travelers, we somehow managed to survive on little money, and not get into too much trouble. Then family commitments restricted our travel, to a few small trips. Finally, when our sons left school, and we were going to move to Sydney to live, my husband and I decided to sell our home, pack everything into storage and headed off on a four month back packing trip to Europe and South America. It was an amazing adventure, and really sparked our travel bug.</div>
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7. <b><i>Finally- Family History and family stories.</i></b> This has been a passion for a long time, there is nothing better, than spending a Sunday afternoon, on the lounge snuggled up with my laptop, and searching the online new papers and records, trying to piece together the stories of my ancestors. </div>
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<b>Blogs I Admire</b><br />
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This is a difficult one, as there are so many blogs that I enjoy reading, apologies if these blogs have already been nominated:<br />
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1. <a href="http://qld-genealogy.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Queensland Genealogy</a> - Judy Webster. This Blog is full of information and wonderful tips for researching your family roots in Queensland.<br />
2.<a href="http://www.geneamusings.com/" target="_blank"> Genea-Musing</a>s - Randy Seaver - Love checking out his weekly list of blogs for the week as I always discover new tips or a new blogger.<br />
3. <a href="http://janasgenealogyandfamilyhistory.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Jana's Genealogy and Family History Blog</a> - Jana Last - another wonderful blog! Her Follow Friday Fab Finds is another example of paying if forward, and I always make a point of looking at the posts she suggests each week.<br />
4. <a href="http://rebelhand.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">A Rebel Hand</a> - Frances Owen - Australian blog which among other genealogy things, tells the story of Nicholas Delaney, an Irish convict who was transported to Australia.<br />
5. <a href="http://ayfamilyhistory.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Anne's Family History </a>- Anne Young. Anne writes of her family history in Australia, with some great research and colourful family stories backed up with interesting snippets from TROVE.<br />
6. <a href="http://trust.dictionaryofsydney.org/category/blog/" target="_blank">Dictionary of Sydney</a> - Wonderful resource on the history of Sydney.<br />
7. <a href="http://www.thearmchairgenealogist.com/" target="_blank">The Armchair Genealogist</a> - Lynn Palermo - I have found this blog very motivational and with lots of helpful hints for writing up family history.<br />
8. <a href="http://familytreefrog.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Family Tree Frog</a> - Alex Daw. Another Australian blogger - such a warm, colourful and interesting blog.<br />
9. <a href="http://www.pisces49.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Rings of My Family Tree</a> - I have only recently started following this blog, and found it to be a good read.<br />
10. <a href="http://caiteile.com/" target="_blank">Seeking Susan - Meet Marie - Find Family</a> - Kirrily Burton, This blog was originally written by Catherine Crout-Habel, and when Catherine passed away recently, her daughter has taken on the task of keeping this most enjoyable blog going.<br />
11. <a href="http://stumblingpast.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Stumbling Through the Past</a> - Yvonne Perkins - great read and really well researched.<br />
12. <a href="http://ourownhistory.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Our Own History</a> - Pam. Shares stories and wonderful pics of family, old books and some great family recipes.<br />
13. <a href="http://the-history-girls.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">The History Girls</a> - blog written by a number of authors, have followed this and enjoyed their posts for a couple of years.<br />
14. <a href="http://jonesfamilyhistory.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Tracking Down Family</a> - Jennifer Jones - interesting and well researched blog.<br />
15. The last blog I would like to mention is <a href="http://worldwidegenealogy.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Worldwide Genealogy - A </a><br />
<a href="http://worldwidegenealogy.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">genealogical Collaboration</a>. This blog was started early this year and features genealogical bloggers from all over the world, each writing a post each month. I have been lucky enough to be among these writers and I have to say, it has been a wonderful collaborative experience. Each writer has shared tips and family stories that continue to widen my research skills and knowledge.<br />
<br />
There are many more blogs that I enjoy, so to all you bloggers thank you for sharing your thoughts, advice and stories.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-67255219061470611502014-09-12T16:36:00.000-07:002014-09-12T16:36:30.768-07:00"Family Recipe Friday" - Nan's Lemon Butter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQGW-sguiHexUGJTvr73DxhO79tGc5a1RPlGiNrz6WQ0vhcKWXv0SHKHwsA3GrdlnMsgmoc5PQlHMlkiDzNEPRau_I2o0Ahc7T6wLQ6h_t4H6FFfCajqy9MoyA188uRTh1Ybqk2s_XTjU/s1600/lemon+butter+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvQGW-sguiHexUGJTvr73DxhO79tGc5a1RPlGiNrz6WQ0vhcKWXv0SHKHwsA3GrdlnMsgmoc5PQlHMlkiDzNEPRau_I2o0Ahc7T6wLQ6h_t4H6FFfCajqy9MoyA188uRTh1Ybqk2s_XTjU/s1600/lemon+butter+2.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Since I have been blogging I continue to be surprised by the blogs that attract the most readers. Two years ago, not long after "Nan" passed away, I posted her recipe for stale bread cake (<a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/family-recipe-friday-nans-stale-bread.html" target="_blank">Family Recipe Friday - Nan's Stale Bread Cake</a>) to celebrate her birthday.<br />
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This recipe was an old family favorite that she always had on hand when someone dropped in for a cup of tea. Of all the posts I have written the number of hits <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2012/08/family-recipe-friday-nans-stale-bread.html" target="_blank">"Nan's Stale Bread Cake"</a> far out numbers any other blog I have written!<br />
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So today, to celebrate her birthday and memory, I will share another of her favorites. <b>Lemon Butter!</b> <br />
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When ever she visited us, she never failed to bring along a jar of lemon butter for my husband. I can remember when visiting her in her lovely cottage in the North Queensland home of Atherton, we would have to go on a special excursion to a small farm about 20 kms outside of town to buy six dozen eggs (because they were much cheaper) for the lemon butter. <br />
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<i><b>Nan's Lemon Butter</b></i></div>
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<i><b>1 cup of butter</b></i></div>
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<i><b>1 cup of castor sugar</b></i></div>
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<i><b>6 eggs</b></i></div>
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<i><b>6 lemons (from her lemon tree)</b></i></div>
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<i><b>grated zest of three lemons</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Beat eggs in bowl, add sugar, lemon juice and lemon zest. In a large saucepan, melt the butter, slowly add the egg, sugar and lemon mix into the saucepan and cook over a low heat, stirring constantly until thickened. Spoon the mixture into sterile jars. When cooled, seal and store in the fridge.</b></i><br />
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Nan loved to make large quantities for family, so if you feel that this will be more lemon butter than you need you can easily halve the recipe to make a smaller quantity.<br />
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Lemon butter is wonderful in sponge cakes and tarts, but my favorite is on hot buttered toast.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-88561068077957867972014-09-08T17:33:00.001-07:002014-09-08T17:33:40.255-07:00Amanuensis Monday - Woman's Death from Drowning<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Sd2nGsWB5jK4zH0fSueeM4e8XOVY2IQtaNFmz-Rsi6ryHu0sdgDWi4ZP2qSlD0-RVScCsbG20RAZqU5c7Qbnfw5TL_K-zd0IiFmrM_pK3cpk3vtTZh0l4do29l8rr1tPwqn54MPxZiSu/s1600/Death+of+Caroline+Hornhardt+(15).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Sd2nGsWB5jK4zH0fSueeM4e8XOVY2IQtaNFmz-Rsi6ryHu0sdgDWi4ZP2qSlD0-RVScCsbG20RAZqU5c7Qbnfw5TL_K-zd0IiFmrM_pK3cpk3vtTZh0l4do29l8rr1tPwqn54MPxZiSu/s1600/Death+of+Caroline+Hornhardt+(15).jpg" height="400" width="246" /></a>My great grand father, <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/sundays-obituary-john-herbert-1862-1926.html" target="_blank">John Herbert's</a> remarried after the tragic death of his wife <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/matrilineal-monday-louisa-seaford-1872.html" target="_blank">Louisa Seaford</a> in 1902. His married second wife <a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2014/09/matrilineal-monday-tragic-drowning.html" target="_blank">Caroline Hornhardt</a> in 1903 and their family continued to live in Burra until John's death in 1926. After his death, Caroline she spent time living with her step daughters Essel Quinn (nee Herbert) who lived in Broken Hill and Annie Whitehorn (nee Herbert) who lived in Prospect, South Australia.</div>
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Carrie (as she was known) whose story can be found on my other blog "<a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">The other half of my tree - stories of my female ancestors" </a>died tragically eight years after her husband, John. </div>
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<a href="http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article74122939" target="_blank"><i><b>The Advertiser,</b></i> Saturday 15 December 1934.</a><br />
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<b><i>Prospect Woman's Death from Drowning</i></b><br />
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<i>At an inquest yesterday into the death of Mrs Caroline Herbert, 59, widow, of Percy Street, Prospect, whose body was found in the River Torrens near The Frome road bridge on December 7 the City Coroner (Mr A S. Blackburn) found that there was no evidence to show how she came to be in the river.</i><br />
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<i>Jack Herbert, a son of Draytown Street, Bowden said that his mother had not complained of ill health, and had given no signs of having been depressed.</i><br />
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<i>Mrs Annie Whitehorn, of Percy Street, Prospect, stated that the deceased was her stepmother, and had been living with her at her home since she had come from Broken Hill about nine moths ago. She was to have returned to Broken Hill on December 7. She had gone off her food during he last few months, but was not depressed. She was very short sighted.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Mr M.R. Kelton a corporation employee, of Curtis street, North Adelaide, who found he body, said hat the bank around the spot was very steep and a danger for anyone walking there at night.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
You can read more of Caroline's story on "<a href="http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/2014/09/matrilineal-monday-tragic-drowning.html" target="_blank">Matrilineal Monday - Tragic Drowning - Caroline Herbert nee Hornhardt"</a>.<br />
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<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 18px; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="background-color: #fafae1; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.3349990844727px;">1934 'Prospect Woman's Death From Drowning.', </span><i style="background-color: #fafae1; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.3349990844727px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">The Advertiser </i><span style="background-color: #fafae1; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16.3349990844727px;">(Adelaide, SA : 1931 - 1954), 15 December, p. 9, viewed 8 September, 2014, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article74122939</span></h3>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-38613065489890886982014-07-28T04:42:00.000-07:002014-07-28T04:51:13.948-07:00Matrilineal Monday - A life cut short - Louisa Herbert (nee Seaford) 1872 -1902<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTdDt0ROPhXPoKIefNfbLPwVelMNAFF6h8GF_IpJA0JHF71G_ek_ChsMWW8Swz7T22ddFLM6SftK_cpXzIU6tmoQeiT8FN-SmiCnNm6u98DI5FD7vE16NZ7lXZmnbC2CvRZCovihE1_xvp/s1600/84a871e1-2683-4852-9758-a1b7533464fc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTdDt0ROPhXPoKIefNfbLPwVelMNAFF6h8GF_IpJA0JHF71G_ek_ChsMWW8Swz7T22ddFLM6SftK_cpXzIU6tmoQeiT8FN-SmiCnNm6u98DI5FD7vE16NZ7lXZmnbC2CvRZCovihE1_xvp/s1600/84a871e1-2683-4852-9758-a1b7533464fc.jpg" height="640" width="448" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Louisa Seaford and John Herbert </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;">Last week I shared the Obituary of my great grandfather <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/sundays-obituary-john-herbert-1862-1926.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">John Herbert (1862-1926</span>).</a> Tragically, his first wife, Louisa Seaford died at the age of thirty, leaving him with four children, Alice, Essel Mary, <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/sentimental-sunday-william-john-herbert.html" target="_blank">William</a> and Annie, all under the age of 11 years. Louisa was born in Burra, South Australia the second daughter of Julianna Grow and Henry Seaford. As a child she attended school in Burra, then at the age of 18 she married <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2014/07/sundays-obituary-john-herbert-1862-1926.html" target="_blank">John Herbert</a> on the 23 May 1890. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuAESgZcn5G78OlB1HS2sWWr8iMB8RqSdJdVqWeEyDrf_0yv2w3zCcQKVoDoAHYQQntP24GV3kXaMW4YyUVHvrFBRy3d_8poigYx-AqNjRRU_QaLHuiIAuE6sNqoC36Fd2_7i90iQvO-l/s1600/Louisa+Seaford+and+John+Hartigan+Marriage+Notice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwuAESgZcn5G78OlB1HS2sWWr8iMB8RqSdJdVqWeEyDrf_0yv2w3zCcQKVoDoAHYQQntP24GV3kXaMW4YyUVHvrFBRy3d_8poigYx-AqNjRRU_QaLHuiIAuE6sNqoC36Fd2_7i90iQvO-l/s1600/Louisa+Seaford+and+John+Hartigan+Marriage+Notice.jpg" height="75" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marraige Notice - for Louisa and John Herbert *<br />
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</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;">Life in the mining town of Kooringa was tough, and health risks high, with outbreaks of typhoid and cholera. Unfortunately Louisa fell victim to Cholera and died very suddenly at the tender age of 30. How was John to care for such a young family all on his own and at the same time working to earn a living?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<b>OBITUARY - Burra Record </b><br />
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"We have to record this week the death of the wife of Mr. John Herbert, of Kooringa, which took place on Thursday night at the Burra Hospital. The deceased lady was a native of Burra, and had resided here all her life. Fever was contracted a week or two ago, and subsequently alarming symptoms set in, which made her case very serious. Despite the tender nursing and constant attendance of the doctors the deceased never recovered. Mrs. Herbert was 30 years of age on the day she died.</i></span></div>
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<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></i></div>
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<i style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The funeral took place on Sunday afternoon, when a very large number of friends paid the last tribute of respect to the deceased lady. The Rev. W Y. James conducted the service at the graveside. The Lily of the Valley Ten (ladies) and Foresters' lodge formed a procession in front of the hearse and marched to the cemetery. Much sympathy is expressed for Mr. Herbert, (who is left with a family of four young children to mourn their loss." **</i></div>
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<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">__________</span><br />
<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">*<i>The Advertiser, </i></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article26753447" style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: blue;">http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article26753447</span></a><span style="background-color: #fafae1; color: #006699;">.</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;">viewed on 26/7/2014</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;">** </span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; line-height: 17.727272033691406px;"><em style="font-weight: 400;"><span style="color: #333333;">Burra Record (SA : 1878-1954), Wednesday 9 April 1902, page 2 National Library of Australia </span><a href="http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article36107209"><span style="color: blue;">http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article36107209</span></a></em></strong>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-204631889418278919.post-75381387518912129452014-07-20T04:35:00.003-07:002014-07-20T04:36:36.088-07:00Sunday's Obituary - John Herbert 1862-1926<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9tfkhnEdMLeNsHdwhLDnjNQ5yf_bpX5Bba1L-cygHAHvc4MQLLjGYpkzK_zu8hL9XitTWG_zYZSn170Bp5QUDbnxzRjgS2W7MF2SKNgXlwoD4-pNMX_BqAdYjElonMmAvkY2XUYs_b8h/s1600/John+Herbert.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9tfkhnEdMLeNsHdwhLDnjNQ5yf_bpX5Bba1L-cygHAHvc4MQLLjGYpkzK_zu8hL9XitTWG_zYZSn170Bp5QUDbnxzRjgS2W7MF2SKNgXlwoD4-pNMX_BqAdYjElonMmAvkY2XUYs_b8h/s1600/John+Herbert.jpg" height="320" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Herbert 1862-1926</td></tr>
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Today's post is the obituary of my great grandfather Mr John Herbert who passed away suddenly, at the age of 63 in 1929. He spent his entire life living in the mining town of <a href="http://www.southaustralia.com/info.aspx?id=9002545" target="_blank">Burra</a>, South Australia.</div>
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<i><b>"Obituary</b>*</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Residents were greatly shocked on Wednesday last when it was
announced that Mr John Herbert had passed away at the Burra Hospital the
previous night, after a very short illness.
The Thursday previous he was unable to attend to his work but thinking
it was an old trouble he did not take too much notice and did not unfortunately,
obtain medical advice until the following Monday. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i> The late Mr Herbert
was born at <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burra,_South_Australia" target="_blank">Kooringa</a> in 1852 and was the eldest son of the late Mr and Mrs
William Herbert, (Pioneers of Burra), of <a href="http://www.samemory.sa.gov.au/site/page.cfm?u=962&c=8723" target="_blank">Kooringa</a>. He was educated at the late <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2012/11/those-places-thursday-burra-model.html" target="_blank">Dr J.R. Stevens’school</a> and worked first at <a href="http://www.burrahistory.info/BurraHistory.htm" target="_blank">Lockyer’s brewery</a>.
After the brewery closed down he worked at other places but for many
years past has been an employee of the Burra Corporation. In his work he was conscientious and thorough
and the Council have lost a trusted and valued employee. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>In his younger days Mr Hebert was an enthusiastic footballer
and cricketer but of late years has been content to be a looker-on but a most interested
one. As a townsman he was held in the
highest esteem by all and sincere sympathy is felt for the widow and family in
their sudden bereavement. Mr Herbert was
twice married, his first wife was Miss Lousia Seaford who died in 1902 leaving
a son and three daughters. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>In 1903 he married
Miss Carrie Hornhardt who has a family of two sons and one daughter. The family
comprises Mrs M. J. Madigan of Pinnaroo; Mrs TV. Quinn, Broken Hill; Mrs D.
Whitehorn, Koolunga; <a href="http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/sentimental-sunday-william-john-herbert.html" target="_blank">Mr W.J. Herbert, Broken Hill</a>, Mr Jack Herbert, Adelaide;
Mr Roy Herbert; Broken Hill and Miss Lily Herbert, Kooringa, and six
grandchildren, also two brothers Messrs Chas. Herbert of Sydney, George Herbert
and one sister, Mrs T. Parks both of Kooringa.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<i>His funeral took place on Thursday afternoon and was attended
by a representative number of townsfolks.
The Mayor (Mr Collins Esq), with Mrs T. Woolscott, F. Harris, A.B.
Biggs, J Kellock, EJ. Davey acted as bearers and amongst the many beautiful
floral tributes was one from the members of the Town Council and some from several
townsmen. The service was conducted by
the Rev. R. H. Lee and the funeral arrangements my Messrs C.J. Pearce and
Son. The Late Mr Herbert was also a very
old member of the Forestors Lodge and the service at the grave was read by Bro.
E J. Davey."</i><br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtUhUAtMtJYS-RAPfLQv9Gpy4wX3xwze78XV7v3euNGHwAy5vP4F4h4pJHHZwPJbPixl8tGQXCPzRircjl-C2WxuJULCekpL2VXIvfK0Zha19Zx8yS2V-BLPV-65nv20g-oH9fdcHCalv/s1600/John+Herbert+5-1-1926+Burra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtUhUAtMtJYS-RAPfLQv9Gpy4wX3xwze78XV7v3euNGHwAy5vP4F4h4pJHHZwPJbPixl8tGQXCPzRircjl-C2WxuJULCekpL2VXIvfK0Zha19Zx8yS2V-BLPV-65nv20g-oH9fdcHCalv/s1600/John+Herbert+5-1-1926+Burra.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grave - John Herbert - Burra South Australia</td></tr>
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____________</div>
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<i>Burra Record</i>, 13 January 1936, p. 3</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14747734897778712396noreply@blogger.com0