Sharing Memories - Mail deliveries in the Outback

My sister waiting for the mailman

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 Sharing my memories of our outback mailman.

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 Nuntherungie Station (this could sometimes be seen for quite a few miles), that signaled the imminent arrival of the mail truck. Nuntherungie Station was between Broken Hill and White Cliffs and the mail truck would arrive at our homestead on Saturday mornings, dropping of mail and supplies on its way through to White Cliffs.

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.

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 "Cherry Ripes" 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. 

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.

Also included in our mail would be our next set of lessons from Blackfriar's Correspondence School. 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.

June 30 1950, Western Grazier

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.

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. 

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.

Mr Vincent and his son, with their mail trucks at Nuntherungie Station

Family Recipe Friday - Nanna Carriage's Blackberry Jam

Late January through to February is Blackberry time in Australia. Blackberry bushes have long been recognised as one of the most noxious weeds in Australia and are the bane of many a farmer because of their tendency  to take over valuable pastures

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.  

As I outlined in my recent post, Sharing Memories - It's Blackberry time! blackberry picking in our summer school holidays was something we really looked forward to.

We would head out early in the morning and pick the berries, bringing them back to our Nanna, Christina Carriage's 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.

Nanna Carriage's Blackberry Jam

6lbs fresh firm blackberries

1/2 cup of water

4 tablespoons of lemon juice

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.  

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.

Pour the jam mixture into warm sterile jars and seal with airtight lids or jam papers. Label, date and store in a cool place. 

Nanna had some other tips for making good jam:

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.

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.

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.

4.  To sterilize bottles wash in hot water, dry thoroughly and then place into warm oven before filling with jam.

Sentimental Sunday - Sharing Memories - It's Blackberry time!!

Black stained fingers and a purple grin!!

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.

Part of the Blackberry Haul

Their sticky fingers and stained smiles brought back childhood memories of summer holidays at my Nanna's (Christina Sterland Carraige, nee Lee) house in Milton, NSW.  My sisters and I,  and my cousins would head out from our Nanna's house early in the morning to collect blackberries from the nearby fields in the dairy farms that surrounded the small township.  

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. 

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.

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.

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. 

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! 

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!!

  

Sharing Memories - Boxing Day Reflection

Christmas Morning 

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.

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.

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.

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. 

Mount Molloy Pub - Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve dinner was enjoyed at the local pub at Mount Molloy, 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.

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). 

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). 

Santa putting final touches to the Trifle

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.

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. 

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. 

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.

Wordless Wednesday - Sharing Memories

Smoko break - Nuntherungie Station

Today I would like to share a picture of my father having a "Smoko" break while working out in the paddocks of Nuntherungie Station. My post "Early Days in the Bush - Day out with Dad", describes this.  I have to confess that he posed for this picture with the left over lamb bone, as was his dry sense of humour.  However, the picture does ring true, with the reality of the small camp fire to boil his billy for the morning cup of tea and the harsh environment of life in the outback.  Smoko, is a term that is was used to refer to morning or afternoon tea break, which generally went along with time for a quick cigarette or as was the case for my father a "puff on his pipe".

Amanuensis Monday - Sharing Memories - Disastrous Floods destroy Nuntherungie Station Homestead

Red earth of Nuntherungie- Homestead in Background

Last week I wrote about the importance of rain in the outback, and some of my childhood memories of the celebration and excitement when rain did finally eventuate in Sharing Memories - Here comes the Rain!.  In this story I mentioned Miss Tapp, the sister of the owner of Nuntherungie Station who was brought up on the station as a young child.  Miss Tapp, who lived in Broken Hill, had quite an influence on my knowledge of the bush as a young child.  

When she was visiting her brother (from Broken Hill) she would take me on walks in the bush, and dry creek beds, pointing out the different types of bushes, plants and animals. She showed me how to dig down into the dry creek bed, to find water, and pointed out some of the native plants that were edible. I can also clearly remember her showing me the different foot prints in the sand that were made by kangaroos, birds and goannas by drawing the shapes of their hoof prints in the sand.   

 

North West Corner of  NSW - showing location of Nuntherungie

The Homestead of Nuntherungie was built on a hill, looking down on the extensive system of creeks that flowed in between the homestead and the Woolshed.  However, this homestead was not the original building.  The first homestead build on Nuntherungie was erected closer to the creeks in the 1880's.  On one of the outings with Miss Tapp we visited the spot where the first homestead stood.  All that was remaining was a couple of brick chimneys, overgrown by bush. Miss Tapp described her childhood in a beautiful stone homestead. She then told me the homestead had been destroyed in a huge flood that the family had to leave and rebuild their home on higher ground. 

As we scrambled out way through the long grass and trees, Miss Tapp pointed out a small overgrown garden bed where a couple of bulbs were popping out of the ground.  She explained that this was all that remained of her mothers garden and every year in spring these bulbs would pop their heads out to remind her of times gone.

 

I had almost forgotten this story until recently troving through TROVE and came across this article, which gives a more substantial description of the events on the day that the Nuntherungie homestead was washed away in the huge floods of 1931.  It was one of those light bulb moments!  I remember being told about this! and as the story follows on nicely from my previous article about celebrating the arrival of rain in this district, it is fitting to share this story as it highlights  how the people of these isolated areas were at the mercy of the elements.

 

 

Barrier Miner (Broken Hill, NSW, - Tuesday 14 April 1931, page 3*

THE FLOOD AT NUNTHERUNGIE

WATER CAUSED COLLAPSE OF WALLS OF HOMESTEAD

About 6000 pounds damage.

The stately old homestead at Nuntherungie Station, 120 miles from Broken Hill on the White Cliffs road, is now a scene of desolation, and so severe is the damage wrought by the recent floods that the building will have to be demolished and a new homestead built.  About 6000 pounds damage was done.

Nuntherungie is one of the oldest homesteads in the district, and was once owned by the Kennedy family.  The homestead was erected 50 years ago.  Mr Nigel Kennedy, who died in Broken some years ago, being a son of the owner.  Then Mr B. A. Williamson of Abbotsford near Ivanhoe had the place, Mr E.P. Tapp, the present owner, taking over after he returned from service with the A.I.F. during the Great War.  Thus Mr Tapp, who took the place in 1920 or 1921 has during his life not only been exposed to the dangers of war, but has experienced some of the bitter reverses of civil life.

Nuntherungie homestead is built on the east side of a creek and was constructed of stone and pise and when it was built it was never thought that the district would experience such as a flood as was the case about a fortnight ago.  In years gone by the flood waters came down the creek proper but during the past few heavy rains the creek has overflowed some distance above the station and flowed down both sides but the rush of water had never previously reached the house.  When on previous occasions water threatened the station large banks were built to keep it back, and up till this flood the move was successful.  On this occasion the raging torrent was too much for the embankments and they were swept away.  The water had been banked so far back that when it was suddenly released it came like the rapids of a surging river.  Right through the homestead, outhouses and woolshed the water rushed carrying everything before it.  At the height of the flood the water in the homestead and some other houses was 4ft 6 inches deep.  Everything was soaked, the most valuable article, a piano, being saved from destruction by the foresight of some of the people there.  The mattresses from a couple of beds were placed on the dining room table and the piano was lifted on to this.  Thus it escaped the water.  While the piano rested majestically on the table, chairs, other tables and furniture floated about the buildings like miniature yachts.

The miracle was that no persons on the station were drowned.  After the flood had subsided silt was found on the floors of the homestead inches deep.  The foundations of the house sank as a result of the rush of water and in some walls of the buildings cracks appeared from one inch to almost a foot wide.  Other walls collapsed, that is interior walls and two of the walls near the front of the house.  There were nine rooms in the building and all that supports the roof now are a few walls and the door and window frames.  It is estimated that between 5000 pounds and 6000 pounds damage was done to the house, contents and outbuildings on the property.

In the outbuildings a two-roomed structure over a cellar has a tilt because of the foundations having subsided.  Several of the buildings have feet of silt in them.

The flood was the largest in the memory of white men in the district.  One man has been on the station for 35 years and he says that he has never seen such a flood before.  The exact rainfall on the station is not known.  About five inches of rain was registered and then the rain gauge was useless.

It is believed that the extra-large flood was caused by heavy falls at Wertago, where seven inches of rain was registered.  This is between Nuntherungie and Gnalta, and all this water came down the Nuntherungie Creek, later finding its way to Bancannia Lake, about 50 miles away.  Following the water came floods from the Kayrunnera area.

Mr Edward Tapp**

There are five in the Tapp family and all were at home.  Fortunately shearing was in progress and the shearers were able to give Mr Tapp valuable help in cleaning up a lot of the debris.  The shearing of Nuntherungie sheep had finished, but Wertago sheep were being attended to and of course since the flood and the damage the shearing has had to be postponed for the time.

The water came through the shearing shed feet deep, but did not cause the building to collapse.  The silt damaged the interior of the building and much repair work will have to be carried out.  Forty bales of wool were saturated, but the shearers as soon as the rain eased off opened these and spread the wool out to dry.  It is still marketable, although it will be slightly discoloured.  The shearers stood by Mr Tapp to a man and although they were told they could not be paid they never faltered in their cleaning up of the debris and stayed at the station as long as they could.  They worked like men on contract and Constable Smith, who was held up by the floods and reached Nuntherungie gave help till he was able to push on to his station at White Cliffs.  At times it was feared that there would be a shortage of food, but this was rationed and the determination of neighbours at Kayrunnera and Wertago saved the position, Light vehicles were taken out over the flooded areas and provisions were carried over the flooded creek.  Constable Smith left Nuntherungie on Easter Monday and the shearers who had put through 6000 sheep went on to White Cliffs, being held up there owing to the roads to Tonga, where they had to start shearing, being boggy.

According to a resident who was through Nuntherungie during the weekend, the roads between here and Gnalta are passable, but for a man to take the rest of the road to Nuntherungie he must be a careful driver and have a light car.  All the creeks between Gnalta and Nuntherungie are silted up, there being piles of debris and silt 7 ft high in some creeks.  The creek known as 10 mile, some distance from Nuntherungie, had a wire netting crossing, but this has been carried away, and a pile of silt has taken its place.  As far as can be ascertained no sheep were drowned, but a muster cannot be made on account of the conditions of the country.  Some may have been carried away in the torrent, and if not caught in trees washed into Bancannia Lake.  To add to the discomfort of the Nuntherungie people, telephone communication was cut off, the lines being washed away.  Communication has now been restored through Wonnaminta, but the direct line to White Cliffs is still out of order.

Travellers say that much fending on all the stations in the flood area was washed away, and the banks of tanks suffered extensively.  Most of the surface water from the floods has gone, but there is still a little about the clay pans.

Station people in the Nuntherungie area say they will long remember the disastrous flood, and there is much sympathy in the district for Mr Tapp and family, for their loss is severe and the disaster coming at a time when the industry is just recovering makes the blow suffered doubly heavy.

____________

* 1931 'THE FLOOD AT NUNTHERUNGIE.', Barrier Miner(Broken Hill, NSW : 1888 - 1954), 14 April, p. 3, viewed 7 July, 2014, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article46604249

 **Obituaries Australia, http://oa.anu.edu.au/obituary/tapp-edward-peter-958, viewed on 1 July 2014.

Thankful Thursday - Sharing Memories - Here comes the rain!!!

Sheep lined up at water trough 

Last night as I browsed through some of my father’s old slides I reflected on the importance of rain and the impact it had on our lives when we lived on Nuntherungie Station (between Broken Hill and White Cliffs)  as small children.  The average rain fall for this area, in north western NSW, is around 235 mm (9 inches) annually!! Not a lot of rain when you consider the average annual rainfall for Sydney is 1,213 mm (47.59 inches). 

So as you can imagine when the rains did come it was a time for celebration.  I  remember my father turning on the two-way radio the morning after there had been a big storm, everyone from the district calling and reporting how many inches of rain they had, that their dams were full, or that there had been flood waters through their sheds! It was like flock of galahs squawking at a grain spill on the side of the road.  The whole district would be tuned in, hopes refreshed for a better year now that there was water in the dam.

Generally the creeks, line with shaggy old gums were dry except for a few waterholes.  However, when the rain came they would flood. Brown bubbling water would rush down the sandy creek beds, filling all the water holes and flowing into the large dams that were an essential life force for the stock and people living on the property.  Each property, would have a system of huge water dams excavated by earth moving plants, these dams would provide water to the homesteads and would be pumped to the water troughs to provide water to all the stock on the property. In times of drought the level of these damps would be watched closely, often in despair.  The down side of these rain falls would be that they often came on one big rush, washing away fences and cutting through roads and blocking supplies to isolated areas.

Enjoying the novelty of water in the creek

Following a heavy downfall of rain, one of my father’s first tasks was to check on the livestock (mainly sheep) and mend any of the fences that had been washed away. As I mentioned in a previous blog, "Days out with Dad",  I loved to accompany him on these trips, there was nothing like being in a jeep, and having mud and water (instead of dust) splash up on you as went through the water holes and creeks on the property.  The more mud the better it felt!  The flowing creeks and water holes also meant it was time for the children to have some water play!! Something that we didn’t have the opportunity do very often.

One of my favourite memories was of Miss Tapp (the sister of the owner of the property) coming down to our house,  gathering my sisters and myself up to go exploring after the rain. We would head off, bare feet and with our dresses tucked into our bloomers (Yep!! ) to the creek to play in the mud and water.  On one particular time, our mother had just finished making us new white cotton bloomers, and was very dismayed when we returned all muddy brown and dripping in boomers that would for ever remain a light shade of reddy brown.

Water Play in the claypan water hole 

Another paddling adventure was after my dad returned home from one of his post rain tours of the property, he reported that he had found a nice water hole on one of the claypans for the “kids” to play in.  It was decided we should go for family picnic. Lunch packed, we all climbed into the jeep in our swimmers, and headed to the spot where Dad had found the water hole the day before.

However, when we arrived the water had evaporated or drained away, and Dad’s water hole had been reduced to a sheet of water , which was about 2 inches deep!  Not to despair, in we hopped, and splashed and slid around on the muddy clay while Mum organise our lunch.

Of course there are also the stories of isolation and being cut off from supplies, loss of stock and damaged fences and buildings, however, the assurance that the dams were full and there would be water for a few more months far outweighed  the downside!

Thankful Thursday - Childhood Movie Memories - #52SharingMemories -

I am very thankful for all the wonderful memories of my childhood and it would be a shame if these memories were lost so, Sharing Memories is a wonderful way to record your history and the social history of the times that you lived in.  It is these everyday accounts of our lives as children and teens that will some time add colour to our history.

Last year, motivated by Lorine Schulze‘s blog, Olive Tree Genealogy’s prompts of #52 Sharing Memories I started to write some posts on sharing Childhood memories.  I have to admit, I certainly did not meet the 52 posts requirement, however, I really enjoy writing about childhood memories, so will endeavour to write a few more in 2014.  Yesterday, I saw on Lorine's Blog that the prompt for Sharing Memories this week was Movies.   What a great topic!  so I thought I would share a couple of my going to the movies experiences!!

Woolshed 

Growing up in the outback of New South Wales meant that heading off to the movies on a Saturday afternoon with friends was not an option.  However, there was always room for innovation and we still managed to have a “Movie” night every now and then. We were living on Nuntherungie Station, about 120 miles from Broken Hill and 45 miles from the opal mining town of White Cliffs. One of the owners of a nearby property Kurrunera Station had a small plane and his flying licence. Recognising that people of the district were missing out the latest entertainment from the Silver Screen, he thought it would be great to provide the local people with the opportunity to see some of the latest movies.  So arrangements were made with the movie theatre in Broken Hill to every couple of months pick up a copy of a movie, and fly it to his property for a “Movie Night”. 

A movie theatre would be set up in his Woolshed. The word having been spread to all corners of the district  by two way radio and the local people would drive for miles over dusty dirt roads to his property for the big night. 

Wool bale - great Movie seats

The children would all sit together on the bales of wool that were set up in front of the screen, and chatter amongst themselves. One has to remember that these children sometimes went weeks without seeing any other children other than their siblings.  The local graziers would catch up on the latest wool prices or discuss the lack of rainfall and the wives, happy to have an occasion to dress up, would compare notes on their children and life on the land, as they set up the plates of cakes, scones and other goodies for everyone to share at interval.

The first movie I can remember seeing at the Woolshed Picture Theatre was the Disney Movie The Miracle of the White Stallions. It must have had quite an impact on me as I remember being fascinated by the fact that the Lipizzaner horses from the Vienna Spanish Riding School were born black and as they grew older turned white.  I also clearly remember the scenes of the second world war and the valiant effort to save the horses from the Nazis.

The second movie that I remember seeing at the Kurrunera Station Movie Night was not such a big affair.  There had been heavy rainfall in the district and many of the roads were cut. This meant the numbers attending were quite low, so the movie was shown in the homestead.   The movie was, The Titanic, again as I was a young girl  the memories of this movie remained with me for a long time. I remember burying my head in a cushion when the ship went down.  (Lucky it wasn’t the more recent version of the movie, as I might of suffocated.)

A couple of years later our family moved from the White Cliffs district and lived on a number of other properties, one of these was near Gulargambone!  Here was another great movie experience, the outdoor and indoor Magestic Theatre.  In the winter the audience sat inside, however in the summer the screen was set up outside with rows of deck chairs set up for the patrons. Nothing better than sitting in the striped deckchairs, with your bag of popcorn, under the starlight watching the latest movie.  As I was the older sister, my job was to chaperon my three younger sisters on our movie outings.  This certainly limited the  opportunity to sit with any of the boys from school that I fancied.

When I reached high school age, my parents sent me to board in St Faith’s Girls Hostel in Dubbo, so that I could attend Dubbo High School, as they felt it would provide me with better schooling options.  St Faith’s was a Church of England Hostel where about 40 girls from the surrounding districts lived under the guidance of Matron.  Every Friday night, the girls were allowed to go to the local picture theatre, We would all assemble with our 40cents admission at the front of the Hostel after dinner, and our Matron and her Samoyed dog called Yetti, would escort us to the theatre and then meet us at the end of the movie to escort us home.  These were fun times, when I was exposed to all the movies of the late 1960’s, with flower power, spies, Easy Rider, James Bond, Dr Strangelove, to name a few.  There was always the smuggling of hot chips into the back seats of the theatre, hoping the usher wouldn’t be able to smell them, and of course the odd rolling of jaffas down the aisles if the movie was a little boring.

Thank you Lorine for posing the Sharing Memories prompt of “Movies”  it has brought back so many fun memories. I would love to hear others childhood memories of going to the movies as  I am sure there are some good stories out there. 

Wisdom Wednesday - 2013 Accentuate The Positive Geneameme

We are approching the countdown to 2014, and it is time for a little reflection on the passed year.  I must thank Jill Ball, from Geniaus for her wisdom in posing a challenge to all genealogy bloggers that encourages us to look back on our achievements of the last 12 months  with  the 2013 Accentuate the Positive Geneameme.  For me 2013 has been a year of many discoveries as well as sometime out in the second part of the year when work and family commitments left little time for research or blogging.  I was feeling a little slack, however, when I reflect, there have been quite a few high moments in my research and blogging. Here goes with my 2013 Accentuate the Positive Geneameme.

1. An elusive ancestor I found was Donald McDonald, my great great grandfather.  While troving on TROVE on Boxing Day, for articles on gold mining in Araluen and Braidwood districts, by pure accident, I came across the obituary for Donald, which confirmed the stories that my father had related to me many years ago.  The family story was that Donald McDonald was from Canada and came to Australia in the time of the gold rush.  However, I had not been able to find any record to confirm him immigrating to Australia from Canada.  The detailed obituary clarifies this story by advising that Donald first went to the gold fields in California and then traveled with a group of American friends to the gold fields in Australia. This group was known as the Yankees and they established quite a reputation in the area of Bells Creek, Araluen. More stories on this to follow in 2014! 

2. A precious family photo I found was a photo of James and Margaret McGregor, with all their family. What a find! or should I say gift! I was visiting my Aunt in November and we were discussing family tree research over a cup of tea, when she gave me a copy of a photocopy of the picture of James, Margaret and all their family.  The bonus was that each person in the photo was named. This photo was the kick in the "butt" that motivated me to get back into my blogging after a 5 month break.  That following week I started my blogging series on the McGregor Sisters.  Thank you Aunty Inara!

3. The Ancestral graves that I found which meant the most to me in 2013 were those of the Nesbitt Family in Alnwick, Northumberland.  Back in the 1890's, pre-internet, it was difficult to find information on family links in England, so I wrote to the post-offices of the towns that I knew our ancestors came from in the hope they would be able to put me in contact with people in the area with the same surname. One of these letters struck gold.  A worker at the post office at Alnwick, gave my letter to his father, who was a member of St Michael's Church parish in Alnwick.  He wrote a couple of lovely letters to me, these letters included photos of family graves, and post cards of Alnwick.  This year I traveled to the United Kingdom to do some family research and visited Alnwick.  It was so exciting to wander around the cobbled stone streets where my ancestors lived, but the most amazing part of this visit was to rediscover these family graves and take my own photos almost 30 years later.

4. A Genesurprise I received was about two weeks after my Aunt gave me the picture of the McGregor family (see above). I received a message on my Ancestry site, asking if I was related to James and Margaret McGregor? It seemed that the stars were aligned for my McGregor Research.  To cut a long story short a volunteer from the Society of Australian Genealogists (SAG) contacted me, advising that they had James and Margaret's bible and if I liked I could have it! I visited the SAG, and to my delight came away with three family bibles.  See my post: Lunch time discoveries in the Rocks. The bonus of this visit was that I finally joined the SAG and I hope to become more involved with them in 2014.

Alexander McDonald's grave

5. My 2013 blot post that I was particularly proud of was about my great-great uncle Alexander Joseph McDonald.  This poignant blog was part of the 2013 Trans Tasmanian ANZAC Day blog challenge and tells the sad story of Alexander McDonald's landing at Anzac Cove on the 25 April 1915.  By the way, Alexander was the son of Donald McDonald mentioned above in my first point in this blog on my most elusive ancestor discovery for this year.

6. My 2013 blog posts that have received the largest number of hits and comments has been the series that I started on "Sharing Memories". I have really enjoyed putting these personal memories, some with old pictures taken my father to paper.  Hopefully I will be inspired to post more of these memories in 2014.

7. A new piece of software I mastered was Evernote.  A couple of years ago I wrote a blog on my resolve to start using Evernote.  This year I made a concerted effort to use my Evernote account.  I have found it invaluable in collecting, and sorting notes, web pages, photos, documents, passwords, scanned documents etc.  I don't know about you but I love every now and then to just randomly search the Internet for bits and pieces relating to my family history, i.e. articles on towns they lived in, maps, occupations, social conditions, events that happened in their lives etc.  I collect and tag these links, saving them in the appropriate family tree file for later reference.

8. The social Media tool I enjoyed using this year! I start a Facebook page for Family Stories, Photographs and Memories.  This has allowed me to link with other genealogy sites on Facebook and has been very rewarding.

9. A journal/magazine article I had published?  None.  However, this would be a challenge I would like to tackle in 2014 if the opportunity arises.

10. A Genealogy Book that taught me something? My recent focus on researching the McGregor family has made me realise that my knowledge of Scottish Ancestry is very limited.  Two books that I found most useful were: Scottish Family History on the Web, by Stuart A. Raymond, and Scottish Genealogy, by Bruce Durie.

11. A great library that I visited in 2013 was the Colne Library, Lancashire. As I mentioned earlier I went to the UK in the middle of this year with the specific aim of researching the descendants of William Taylor and Elizabeth Rushworth. I spent a month in the small village of Foulridge on the outskirts of Colne, Lancashire, and passed many hours in the local Colne Library. The staff were so helpful, assisting me with all my questions, and showed genuine interest in my research. This included pulling out from their storeroom a forgotten box of pictures from the local Ambulance Station that was given to the library when the station closed.  In this box we found an amazing collection of photos highlighting events and important personalities from the Ambulance Station's history.  Included among these were a number of pictures of Elizabeth Taylor (nee Rushworth).

12.  A history book I enjoyed, was A Lancashire Past: A family love story, by J.W. Foulds. This was a delightful story of life in Lancashire in the early 1900's, and provided a great background and some understanding of life in Colne, Lancashire.

13. It was so exciting to finally meet  and reconnect with fellow researchers of the Taylor/Rushworth family tree. I has been writing and sharing information with this researchers for around three years.  It was so much fun to actually embark on family tree research together, as we visited the old family haunts, homes and churches in Lancashire.

14. The geneadventure I enjoyed was of course, my trip to the United Kingdom. I visited the districts of Arnold, Cambridgeshire; Alnwick, Northumberland; Arnold, Nottingham and of course Colne, Lancashire, all towns linked with branches of my and my husbands family tree. I visited so many churches, pubs, farmhouses, library's and museums, met long lost cousins and discovered photos and family graves and records.  It is my plan to sort and write about these discoveries in the new year.

15. Finally, another positive I would like to share. I consider myself a person who dabbles in blogging and writing history, though if I had more time I would like to take my blogging more seriously.  So when I received an email from the Australian National Library that both my blogs, Family Stories: Photographs and Memories, and The Other Half of My Family Tree - stories of my female ancestors, were to be archived in the Pandora Project, I was quite surprised! and a little chuffed. It certainly puts a little more pressure to write articles of substance!

Well that is all for 2013.  I wish you all the best for the New Year and Happy Blogging for 2014.

_________

Resources:
1. 1913 'OBITUARY.', Windsor and Richmond Gazette (NSW : 1888 - 1954), 12 April, p. 12, viewed 31 December, 2013, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article85849934
2. http://womenfrommyfamilytree.blogspot.com.au/
3. Society of Australian Genealogists, http://www.sag.org.au/ 
4. http://familystoriesphotographsandmemories.blogspot.com.au/
5. Colne Library, http://www.lancashire.gov.uk/libraries/librarydetails/libsearch1.asp?name=Colne

Those Places Thursday - Sharing Memories - Childhood Christmas in the Outback of NSW

Our Aussie Christmas Tree

Recently I received an email from a friend in England in which she commented. "I  guess you are going to have one of those funny Australian Christmases”.  This made me smile, as Australians love to celebrate Christmas.  It is one of the most important family events of the year and our traditions are a carry-over from our ancestry.  

Quite often  families embrace the customs of their grandparents with the traditional meal of roast meats, baked vegetables, gravy and of course the Christmas pudding with steaming hot custard. We do however give the meal an Australian flavour by including lots of seafood, salads, tropical fruits such as mangoes, lychee's and of course a bowl of cherries.  Christmas is the traditional start to our cherry season and is often equated as the “Christmas fruit”.  There is nothing better than  seeing the littlies  with big red stains around their mouths from munching on the cherries in the Christmas fruit bowl!

However, mainly as a result of our climate,  an Australian Christmas is quite different to that experienced by my friend in England, so I thought I would share as part of my Sharing Memories Posts a couple of Christmas stories from my childhood.

As mentioned in previous blogs, my early childhood was spent in the far west of New South Wales, where we lived on the sheep station, Nuntherungie. As with most families, Christmas meant time spend sharing food, drink and adventures with our extended family. This time with family often meant a lot of travel, as my father’s family lived on the South Coast of New South Wales, over 800 miles (about 1,200  kms) away. My mother’s family were much closer, only 120 miles (190 kms) away in Broken Hill.

When I was quite young my father’s family, decided they would make the venture from the seaside village of Milton on the South Coast of NSW to Nuntherungie to celebrate Christmas in our home.  Unfortunately, the hot weather came early that year, with temperatures reaching the high 30’s.  Quite a shock to all the family members who were used to living in the lush coastal region, close to the beach!

House and  with Sleep- out (RH corner)

Our home had glass louvered windows all the way around to allow as much breeze through the house as possible and  away from the main house was a” sleep out” which my parents would sleep in in the summer months.  This was a separate room built away from the house with windows all the way around to help keep the room cooler in the summer.  However, not everyone could fit into the sleep-out, so all and sundry elected to sleep outdoors under the stars, in the hope of catching the smallest of breeze.  The large square of buffalo grass, that made up our “lawn” was covered in a conglomeration of pillows, mattresses, sheets and sleeping bodies. 

On one corner of the lawn was our version of a Christmas tree.  There are no neat symmetrical pine trees to be found in the outback, so our Christmas tree consisted of a branch of a dead gum tree, sawn off and painted with silver paint and then decorated with home-made streamers and balloons.  Yes, a different Christmas tree!! However, Santa always managed to find our tree, and leave a collection of large lumpy parcels wrapped in bright Christmas paper.

Christmas Day soon arrived, and the sleepy visitors stirred, cups of sweet black tea were passed around as everyone stretched and yawned, finding a spot on the grass amongst the scattered bed clothing from the previous night.  The children, pushing for a spot closest to the tree, waiting for my Dad, as elected Santa’s helper, to pick up each parcel from under out tree, read the tag and passed on to the excited recipients.

Ohhs! And Aah!s came from all corners of the grass, as everyone opened their parcels, squeals of delight from the children at new toys, and sweets, and the tangled mess of bedding was now joined by discarded Christmas paper and ribbon.  What a Christmas morning, and I love the slides that my father took of this day, about fifty five years ago.

The mess cleaned up, the children acquainted themselves with their new toys, while the adults moved into the kitchen to being the preparation for the big family Christmas meal.