Tag Archives: wedding

Weekend Coffee Share- 13th September, 2021.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

How are you? I hope you and yours are going well. I should’ve hot-footed it out the door as soon as I woke up this morning, because it was sunny, and I knew the rain was coming. However, you can’t carpe diem, and seize every day, and some days will just pass through to the keeper. That’s not to say I’m not seizing the day in other ways. I’ve been writing, and it’s a shame it doesn’t count as exercise, because I’d be very fit.

Yes, the word count is doing so much better, than the step count!

Last Thursday, was Geoff’s and my 20th Wedding Anniversary. We were married on the 9th September, 2001 at my school chapel, which was rather interesting because I went to an all girls’ school and we weren’t allowed to talk to boys in school uniform. Well, of course, I was hardly in school uniform when we got married, but I couldn’t resist having this kiss in front of the school office. I was a bit cheeky. However, when you go to a very strict, single-sex school, it leaves an impression.

Being in lockdown has presently seriously restricted our capacity to celebrate our wedding anniversary, along with Geoff’s work. The IT network at the hospital not unsurprisingly knew it was a special day and didn’t want their guardian angel actually having sometime off- especially with his wife. (The dogs weren’t impressed with it either, and Geoff was besieged by dogs armed with tennis balls when he arrived home last night). However, overtime does have it’s perks and it will help to fund our getaway if we ever manage to escape!

In the plane over New Zealand.

Anyway, thanks to lock down, I needed to get creative about celebrating our wedding anniversary. Although we went to New Zealand for our honeymoon, I decided we’d “go to Tassie” and relive a number of magical holidays in one of the few ways open to us – food. Geoff’s from Tassie and his father’s cousin’s own Ashgrove Farm Cheese in Elizabeth Town, somewhat near Launceston. We order a box of assorted cheeses from them, and a kilo of gourmet alcohol truffles from The House of Anvers nearby. Talk about pure indulgence. They’ll last for awhile, which is probably just as well, but it’s good to know that beautiful memories can taste good too.

The other aspect of our wedding, and in particular our honeymoon, is 9/11. We were married two days before the terrorist attacks, and flew to New Zealand 6-8 hours afterwards. It is hard to remember the sequence of events and it’s all complicated by the huge time difference. However, I think we worked out that the first plane hit around 10.45pm Sydney time and we were at the airport about 6.00am on the 12th. It was pretty terrifying, and the other complicating factor was that one of Australia’s major airlines, Ansett, went belly up that week and so my poor 87 year old grandfather from Brisbane who wasn’t much of a traveller, was suddenly abandoned in Sydney Paddington Bear style and couldn’t get home. This caused him and my Mum a lot of stress, but fortunately Qantas came to the rescue and got him home.

You can read more about that here: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2021/09/10/honeymooning-through-9-11-2001/

I also posted a letter which appeared in the order of service at the wedding: https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2021/09/13/a-view-to-eternity-a-letter-from-the-bride-9th-september-2001/

Before I head off, I just wanted to share an incredible duet which appeared on The Voice last night. It was the Australian finale, and in addition to performing their solo numbers, each artist also performed a duet with their coach. Bella Taylor-Smith and her coach, Guy Sebastian performed The Prayer and it was out of this world sensational. I’d be interested to hear your thoughts. Here’ the link:

Anyway, I’d better head off and get this posted quick smart. I must be the last person to post every week. However, I’m busy most weekends.

Anyway, this has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share is hosted by Natalie the Explorer https://natalietheexplorer.home.blog/

Best wishes,

Rowena

A View to Eternity – A Letter From The Bride – 9th September, 2001.

Last Thursday, Geoff and I celebrated our 20th Wedding Anniversary. Well, being in lockdown, “celebrated” might be exaggerating just a tad, especially as Geoff kept getting called into work. However, we had dinner with the kids, zoomed my Mum and Dad and then had a zoom with some friends. These were current friends who weren’t there on the big day, and we’re still to get in touch with our Chief Bridesmaid and Best Man. I don’t know what happened to the weekend. Oh yes I do. Geoff was working.

Anyway, I decided to share a letter I wrote which was printed up in our Order of Service. It turned out to be a good idea, as I was half an hour late.

The Letter

Geoff and I would like to thank you for attending our wedding and being part of our special day! I decided include this letter in the order of service to personalise the service and to share our thoughts, feelings and wedding experience with you. We also wanted to have a solid reminder of our priorities when we first entered into marriage to keep us on track for the future.

Geoff and I met on New Year’s Eve, 1998 when our mutual friend, Emma Longstaff, invited us to watch the fireworks over Sydney Harbour. Meeting Geoff was one of those frozen moments in time. Not because I thought I’d met my future husband but rather he is one of those few people you meet in life that somehow calms the storm within. Geoff gave me some very sound advice that night – look for friendship and stop trying to find a relationship. It lasted a few days, however, some New Year’s resolutions are made to be broken! After an all night conversation in my parents’ driveway, exchanging a few emails and a trip to the zoo, the rest as they say, is history.

Geoff and I not long after we’d met photographed in his Austin Healy Sprite…not as romantic as it looks!

The last couple of months have been hectic as we have bought our first home, started a business and have been planning the wedding. It could have been very easy to get wrapped up in all the preparations and smothered by the trimmings: finding the dress, arranging the engagement party, designing the wedding invitations, choosing the florist, the flowers, the reception, the cake… With all these details to sort out, the preparations for the service almost became the wedding itself and it was a battle to remain focused on what really mattered – our love and commitment to each other and how we were going to spend eternity together.

For so many of those around us, our marriage seemed a foregone conclusion. The inevitable destiny of two people who are in love. Rather than rushing down the express lane, Geoff and I have taken our time in approaching a future together. There is a time for everything and this is our time…not a moment too soon and not a moment too late. This is the perfect wedding – knowing we are marrying the right person at the right time and knowing we have laid the groundwork for the journey ahead – not having the right flowers!

In the midst of planning the wedding, I have also been establishing our new garden. Establishing our garden provides a good analogy for our preparation for marriage. When we bought the house, there were only two trees and compared to the garden I’d grown up with in Pymble, the place looked pretty bare, lacking in warmth and imagination. Before we’d even moved in, we had bought packets of bulbs to establish our Garden of Eden only to discover we had sandy soil that wasn’t unsuitable. Not to be discouraged, I dug vast trenches through the grass, ploughing in cow manure, soil and compost to prepare the ground. I continued watering the dirt throughout the winter months, plucking out the weeds and bits of grass, wondering whether those bulbs would ever see the light of day! It didn’t help either when the local nurseries had daffodils in flower while mine were still lying dormant. Night after night, I checked the garden with my torch until finally, row by row, the bulbs started to shoot.

Meeting Geoff didn’t happen overnight either and it took time for us to get to know each other well enough to make this commitment. Unlike flowers, though, you can’t just put a relationship in a hot house pumped full of fertiliser to accelerate the process and expect it to survive long term. You need to do the groundwork. It is only by sowing the seeds, fertilising the soil, pruning the branches and pulling out the weeds that a marriage can last. And for that extra special garden – making sure there is always something in flower through every change of season and every type of weather! Geoff and I are committed, with God’s strength and your support, to have a bountiful and enduring relationship.

You will notice several pots of flowers here in the Church instead of the customary floral arrangements. These started out as a way of financing more plants for our garden, however, once I put more thought into it, they came to represent a number of things for us. I liked the idea that these plants would be flowering every year on our wedding day to remind us of our special day. I also appreciated the promise of hope that they offered. Just like the tall poppies, there are so many forces at work to cut down a marriage and Geoff and I are determined to grow together with our branches entwined yet nurturing separate root systems to establish a healthy relationship. I also felt like a flower cut down in its prime when I got sick a few years ago and am thankful for the personal growth I have experienced during my recovery.

There are some very special people with us here in spirit today. Geoff’s parents have passed away. Fortunately, I was able to get to know his mother, Margaret, and were able to spend Christmas together. Geoff’s mother embroidered the ring cushion. Geoff’s brother, Terry, has also passed away and we have received much love and support from his widow, Gaye. We would also like to remember my grandmother, Mama Haebich who passed away a year ago. Mama loved Geoff and we spent some special times with her and Papa and Anna. Mama always seemed to get teary in Church and I have one of her special lace hankies with me today. We have also included the 23rd Psalm in the service today in her memory. I would also like to remember my grandfather, Papa Curtin who would wholeheartedly approve of me joining a family of stirrers.

Just so you don’t think planning the wedding was all work and no play, we have enjoyed our engagement and preparing the wedding. One of the highlights was Geoff’s Valentine’s Day proposal. Instead of proposing straight away or giving me my intended gift, Geoff wrapped up an electric sander for his car and presented it to me as my Valentine’s present. The look on my face, he says, was priceless! Another magic moment was finding my engagement ring. It has white and yellow gold meeting from opposite directions twisting together around a beautiful, perfect diamond, symbolising our marriage. There was also trying on the wedding dresses with Mum and Lisa and seeing myself transformed into the glowing bride. The wedding has also been an excuse for catching up with family and friends. And not to forget the Father of the Bride. I think Dad was the only one who was surprised when we announced our engagement. Or was that denial? He enjoyed his medicine though…watching both versions of the film Father of the Bride. Given that Dad looks like Basil Faulty and anything was possible, the movies seemed like good insurance!

Once again, we thank you for sharing our special day!

Love and God Bless,

Rowena and Geoff

Honeymooning Through 9/11/2001.

Today, Geoff and I celebrated our 20th Wedding Anniversary. We were married on the 9th September, 2001 in Sydney. While, I was going through our wedding photos, I came across this photo of us sitting on the plane heading off on our honeymoon in New Zealand. It was taken on Wednesday 12th September our time, which was still the 11th over in America.

Our Wedding Day….The Happiest Day of My Life. I smiled so much, my face hurt!

In case the dates have slipped your mind (“as if” from my perspective, but not everyone was around back then either), the 11th September, 2001 is better known as “9/11”. Looking back on this photo of the two youngish newlyweds now, I was not only struck by the fact that the two of us look so much younger. Indeed, I was immediately struck by the fact we were up in the air on an international flight while ground zero was smouldering and all flights in America were grounded. Moreover, at the time, worldwide security was extremely tenuous. We had no idea what horrors lay ahead for our troubled world, and we at least expected immediate and decisive American retaliation.

Our Wedding Day

Of course, when Geoff and I were married, we had no idea that two days later a different date was going to be etched in our minds for eternity. However, it has always struck me as being rather prophetic that the closing hymn was: The Peace Prayer of St Francis. Although we’d chosen it as a prayer for peace on our domestic front, it was always more about striving towards love and peace on a much grander scale:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.

My grandfather Geoff and myself at the airport.

Anyway, early on Wednesday 12th August, 2001 Dad pulled up outside Sydney’s Kingsford Smith International Airport and dropped Geoff and myself, mum and my grandfather off while he went off to park the car.

Although Sydney was a world away from New York and Washington, as soon as we pulled up at the airport we noticed an overwhelming Police presence. There was a row of something like six Police cars parked in front of us like taxis queued at the taxi rank. We didn’t know what it all meant, but it couldn’t be good. Of course, the wisdom of flying had crossed our minds. However, New Zealand seemed even further off the grid, and what could go wrong in the land of the long white cloud, green hills and loads of sheep?

My grandfather wearing his beanie waving goodbye alongside my Mum and Dad.

Innocence is a beautiful thing, and that’s what I see in Geoff and I sitting on this plane…newlyweds, just married. Sure, we had a mortgage, and both of us had been through considerable adversity. However, all of that was in the past and we were onwards and upward together, and dare I say it…living in the clouds!

Geoff and I in Rotorua. It reminded me of Ground Zero.

Where were you on 9/11? or, perhaps you’d like to share some special or funny memories of your wedding or honeymoon. I’d love to hear from you!

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS I had to post this photo of my grandfather and I. We were very close and while we tend to think of the very young as being so sweet, he was adorable at the other end of time.

Happy Anniversary – 19 Years On…

It was our 19th Wedding Anniversary on Wednesday a figure which automatically takes me through to next year which will be our 20th and worthy of all the pomp, circumstance and luxurious travel it deserves. At this juncture, I don’t know whether I’m looking forward to the same time next year, or whether we should be carpe diem seizing the day while the going is good. After all, everything is relative and 2020 hasn’t been our worst year by a country mile.

Rather, while there have certainly been some struggles, we’ve also had some surprising good luck and overall I think we’re coming out ahead. Not that this stops us from being very conscious of the horrors, disappointments and draining inconveniences which are still being endured globally. However, I don’t want to appeal to the sympathy vote ourselves when compassion, understanding, financial support and love really need to be channeled towards those who need it most and that isn’t us.

However, I did want to celebrate and acknowledge that Geoff and I have made it this far. Share that we actually did manage to get out for an indulgent, romantic lunch at our favourite special venue…the Impact Plans Cafe at nearby Empire Bay. Although we’ve had quite a few luxurious sunny days, this wasn’t one of them. Indeed, it was cold and wet and we even wondered whether the cafe would still be open for a late lunch after Geoff had attended a zoom meeting for work. However, it was like they were just waiting for us and only a couple of tables were taken, which was wonderful in terms of staying covid safe. I’m naturally cautious about going to cafes even though there’s virtually no known covid around here.

As I considered this post, I wondered whether to to put the wedding photo first as the featured image, or whether to start off with our older, more decrepit selves and then flash back to Cinderella and Prince Charming on their big day when, to use the Australian vernacular “we scrubbed up awlright”.

Knowing what lies ahead, I feel tired just looking at those two naive “babes in the woods”. This is actually how my father refers to himself and my mother when my birth started going horribly wrong like an express train accelerating straight over cliff, except I was stuck and not moving anywhere. I can relate to that ourselves looking back. No matter how prepared or cocky you might be, you simply have no idea what’s going to hit you right between the eyes. That’s what we should have been prepared for, instead of thinking about a five year plan. 

Nineteen years down the track, it only natural to ask whether we’d go back and do it all again?

“Can it be that it was all so simple then
Or has time rewritten every line
If we had the chance to do it all again
Tell me, would we?
Could we?” 

-The Way We Were. 

Or, would we run, possibly even in two opposite directions?

I don’t know. There’s a big part of me now that thinks Geoff and I should’ve boarded a yacht and just kept sailing continuously out towards the sunset. Don’t go chasing rainbows. Stand tall like a sunflower and stare deep into those rays and not turn round.

However, I suspect this life of simplicity, without the love and responsibilities of becoming parents, wouldn’t be as rich. That a life well-lived is a textured tapestry filled with ups and downs and no one’s trajectory usually keeps just going up and up.

That’s not to say I’ve given up. As a writer, I still believe in stories and one day I’ll get there after all these years of scribbling and tapping away. I’ll have that published book clutched firm in the palm of my hand.

I don’t know what that has to do with our wedding anniversary, except I do. Our marriage is a partnership and due to my disability and severe health conditions, I haven’t been able to work in the way I expected and to maintain my career in marketing. Indeed, after going through chemo and almost giving up the ghost a few times, it no longer seemed quite so relevant either. I didn’t care how many widgets were sold. I wanted people to be content. I wanted our world to be a better place. All the extra layers of fluff really didn’t matter most of the time. That good loving, caring relationships were more important and I also felt I had a lot to relay through my writing and research. Not just my own observations and opinions, but also those gathered up along the road. Wisdom, after all, is a collective “being”. It’s not just the product of one mind.

Meanwhile, I want to go and dig up our wedding photos etc and show the kids. We also have our wedding video which we’ve never edited and have certainly never shown the kids or any of our current friends. I wonder what they’ll think of the two glamorous love birds? I wonder if they even see a glimpse of us?

Best wishes,

Rowena

R – Rotorua, New Zealand…A-Z Challenge 2020.

Welcome to Rotorua, on New Zealand’s North Island and our latest stopover as we rapidly make our way through the A-Z of Places I’ve Been for the 2020 Blogging From A to Z Challenge. Rotorua is located on New Zealand’s North Island 228 km by road South East of Auckland and is roughly at the centre of the map down below.

map_of_north-island

At what felt like the crack of dawn on the 12th September, 2001 Geoff and I flew from Sydney to Auckland on our honeymoon. We’d got married on the 9th and had spent a few days at Sydney’s Whale Beach, and naturally couldn’t wait to get away.

However, when you have a closer look at the date, indeed if I write it in the American date format, I’m sure it will all come back to you…9/12/2001. That’s right. We flew to New Zealand on the morning of September 12 after watching two planes fly into New York’s World Trade Center. Indeed, it was probably still 9/11 in New York when we flew out thanks to the time difference.

At this point, I’m not sure if we knew about the third plane, but while we were in my parents’ kitchen, we watched the second plane fly into the World Trade Center and the collapse of the twin towers. Yet, although we were on the other side of the world in Sydney, Australia, we felt like we were right there. We could feel it in our pulse. There was no distance. It was absolutely horrific. I don’t remember much about the third plane at the time. However, I do remember US airspace closing down and our little Air New Zealand plane taking off, seemingly above and beyond all the troubles of the world. There have been times when I’ve cursed Australia’s tyranny of distance. However, (then like now as the coronavirus sweeps around the world), it was an incredibly relief, and a case of thank goodness for that!!!

Rowena Geoff Papa Bert 2001

My grandfather Myself and Geoff at Kingsford Smith International Airport, Sydney 2001.

By the way, while all of that was going on over in America, back in Australia, the 9/11 attacks coincided with the demise of Australia’s much loved Ansett Airline, which left my 88 year old grandfather stranded in Sydney. He’d come down from Queensland for our wedding, and getting him home wasn’t a small consideration either. Fortunately, Qantas came to the party, and while having my grandfather stranded was nothing compared to what was happening in America and at a global level, clearly it wasn’t an easy time to get him home.

Meanwhile with American airspace shut down and the demise of Ansett, I now marvel at how we got to New Zealand at all. However, I clearly remember thinking that we were flying into one of the safest places on Earth, and that a bit more distance from the rest of the world could only be a good thing. I certainly wasn’t worried about going to New Zealand at all.

However, although we were geographically isolated from events in America, there was no escape. The world was on tenterhooks. When we went out for dinner on our first night in Auckland, all the restaurants had TVs set up showing continuous coverage. Everyone was glued to it. Indeed, when we went back to our hotel, we were watching Ground Zero on TV much of the night, and at least for the next few nights. As I said, it felt like we were hovering on the brink, and I suspect many would agree, that life has never really quite gone back to how it was before 9/11.

From memory, we stayed in Auckland for three nights and then drove South-East to Rotorua. I’ve always wanted to experience the geothermal activity down there. Indeed,  as I saw all that mud gurgling and splatting away, I was reminded of a song we sang back at primary school: The Hippopotamus Song (Mud! Mud gloroius mud)

Rotorua Mud

Rotorua is part of the Taupo Volcanic Zone, a geothermal field extending from White Island off the Bay of Plenty Coast to Mt Ruapehu far to the south. Rotorua’s array of geothermal features includes volcanic crater lakes, spouting geysers, bubbling mud pools, hissing fumaroles and colourful sinter terraces. You probably need a geological dictionary to make sense of all of that, but it was spectacular. I also found a strange parallel between at desolate scenes of Rotorua and the dust and destruction at ground Zero.

DSC_9475

However, in addition to Rotorua’s incredible geothermal activity, Rotorua also allowed us to experience Maori history and culture at the  Whakarewarewa Village ,  which is the legacy and home of the Tūhourangi Ngāti Wāhiao people. I particularly appreciated this opportunity to immerse myself in Maori history and culture, because for me getting out of your own backyard and walking in someone else’s shoes is what travel’s all about. I don’t go away to experience a duplicate of home, even if that can be personally challenging and confronting. With Australia and New Zealand being neighbours, the Maori people and to some extent their culture, were familiar to me back in Australia. However, it was quite another thing to be on their home turf and to have the full-immersion experience and I’d really like to head back there with the kids. After all, experiencing cultural diversity should make us more open-minded and appreciative of all kinds of difference.

When I was going through my photos, I also spotted a rather architecturally striking building, which turned out to be Bath House which was opened in 1908.

The Fleet at Auckland. The Rotorua Excursion. (Per United Press Association).

ROTORUA, August 13.

The visiting American naval officer spent a pleasant day at Rotorua. The principal thermal wonders in the immediate vicinity were visited. An elaborate Maori welcome, with well executed songs and dances was given in the Sanatorium grounds. The Maoris gave many valuable presents to the guests. The new bath house was then formally opened by the Premier. In the afternoon the visitors proceeded in strength to Whakarewarewa when the native Meeting house was opened by the leading chiefs with ancient formalities. Maggie, Bella, and other guides conducted the visitors around the pools, fumaroles, boiling springs and other thermal wonders. The Wairoa geyser was soaped and responded magnificently. Maori entertainments were given in the evening. WANGANUI HERALD, VOLUME XXXXIII, ISSUE 12541, 14 AUGUST 1908.

Rotorua Bath House

Bath House Roturua,  opened 1908. 

As a whole, Rotorua is one of the most remarkable places I’ve ever been. You can now see so much online, that you get the feeling that you might not need to be there in person. However, Rotorua contradicts all of that and nothing compares to being there in person. We highly recommend you visit and allow at least a couple of days.

Have you ever been to Rotorua or New Zealand? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Sources

https://www.rotoruanz.com/visit/explore/geothermal

https://whakarewarewa.com/

 

Weekend Coffee Share – October 28, 2019.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

How are you? How has your week been? It’s now Monday morning here for me, which is my usual time for checking in with you after the weekend is done and dusted. I don’t really have much to offer you this morning unless you like a fresh roll with butter and Vegemite on top. Otherwise, you might have to come back later. I’m currently sipping on my cup of English Breakfast Tea, which I re-heated in the microwave after dropping the kids at school and running through the chemist and supermarket. Turns out yet another prescription’s expired. Humph! This is all too much for a Monday morning, especially after things on the home front blew up last night. Like all families, stuff brews for a bit them blows, but it’s not good when more than one person blows at the same time. It’s hard to know how to divide my attention, and not ignore somebody.

Newton Family.JPG

Last week, we drove up to Queensland for my sister-in-law’s wedding on the Gold Coast. It was a beautiful wedding, especially because they’ve both been through a lot and against the odds, they’ve found love again. We had the wedding ceremony on Saturday at 6.00pm and on the Sunday we had what could be described as a post-wedding wake where we met up for lunch at this historic mill site with a large sprawling cafe and an animal farm. It was not only an occasion of catching up with family. I also had some rather deep and probing conversations with a few people, and experienced that sense of delight and disappointment when you meet someone you connect with but doubt you’ll see again. Meanwhile, we were staying with Geoff’s other sister just South of the border at Nureybar, in the hinterland behind stunning Byron Bay. What with going up for the wedding, we didn’t get to go anywhere else, although it was novel to be in the country listening to fruit bats fighting in the fruit trees at night, which to the city person to me sounded rather sinister and macabre.

Lady at Ocean Beach

Lady at Ocean Beach, NSW.

Talking about not getting out and about, that reminds me that our so-called “holiday” was cut short a day after two of the dogs got out and Lady was missing overnight. Geoff had been working on the car to get it ready for the trip and didn’t quite latch the back gate properly. When our daughter went to feed them, she found the gate wide open and Rosie and Lady were gone. Just to compound the difficulties, Lady’s tag had fallen off a few weeks ago and I’ve had a chest infection and hadn’t quite managed to get a new tag. So, while she is microchipped, she didn’t have a tag. Rosie had a tag, but as we later found out, she refused to be caught. So, when they were found on the road, they managed to catch Lady and they dropped her at the vet in the morning and we picked her up. Meanwhile, Rosie arrived back at home about 11.00pm looking absolutely exhausted. She’s a border collie x kelpie and she looked like she’d been running all that time and had well and truly overdone it. While the two dogs were at large, my daughter and I were driving around the streets and stopping off at the beach trying to think like a dog so we could find them. Geoff hit the streets with our other dog, Zac, hoping he’d draw them out. They walked about 10 kilometres without finding any trace of them at all.  It was so eerie being out there. The whole place was just silent. There were very few cars or people out and about although we saw quite a few cats roaming about, their eyes glowing in the headlights. It was like we’d escaped from planet Earth and landed on “Planet of the Cats”. Well, that’s an exaggeration, but it certainly wasn’t “Planet of the Dogs”. Ours were nowhere to be found.

That was enough excitement.

Bridget O'Donnell and children

Meanwhile, I’ve been digging deeper into my family history research along with pursuing that burning question…how did they survive the horrors of the Irish Famine? This branch of my family, the Quealy’s, came from Lisheenfroor, Moyarta, Kilrush, County Clare. I don’t blame you if that all means nothing. Lisheenfroor sounded like somewhere out of an Irish fairytale when I first heard about it too. To put it simply, we’re talking about West Clare and if you’re familiar with the famous etchings of the Famine which appeared in The Illustrated London News, 1849-50 that’s the area I’m talking about. It’s been pretty confronting knowing my ancestors went through all of that and I dread to think of what they saw and experienced themselves, and yet this is what I need to know. I can’t turn my back on what happened. It is a part of me.

miss_kennedy_medium

However, none of that pays the bills. It doesn’t help organize the family and keep the household running smoothly either. Indeed, it has quite the opposite effect. It sends me into my research tunnel and the world around me could disappear. Moreover, to be able to write this all up in any meaningful fashion, I need to go into this tunnel and nut things out. Distraction is clearly distracting, unproductive and to put so much energy into the research without grabbling with all and writing it up is somehow self-destructive. I don’t know if you agree with that. Yet, the cost of getting to the end and getting it all finished, if that is even possible, is very high.

If you’re a writer yourself, perhaps that rings true to you too.

That constant tension between survival in the real world versus knowing what you’re made of and striving towards that elusive creative or storytelling goal.

Anyway, perhaps I should’ve stuck to offering you tea, coffee and a Vegemite roll. Perhaps, you’re chilled, relaxed and don’t grapple with these tensions. Indeed, I could easy walk down to the beach and post a very pretty photo of the golden sand and rolling ocean glistening in the sun. Some times, it’s not a good idea to think. Worse to dream. Just stay in your rat-run and not take the blinkers off.

Rowena Pearl Beach 2018

Here’s a relaxed outdoor shot I prepared earlier. It’s me on the rocks at Pearl Beach, NSW and that beach in the distance is home. 

Meanwhile, Lady our fluffy Border Collie x Cavalier who is losing black clouds of fur as we head into Summer has plonked herself under my desk and on my feet. She tells me not to grapple with anything and sleeping through life in your bed is okay, as long as a cat doesn’t move into your territory. She tells me that it’s okay to plunder food off the table or the bench and that being in a little bit of trouble is worth a tasty morsel in your belly. She also tells me that life is too short to wait until you get it right to tell a story. Start telling and the story will tell itself if it wants to be told.

Deary me. I would never have thought that Lady could be such a fountain of wisdom. Trust me. She keeps it a closely guarded secret stashed behind her gorgeous floppy ears and fluffy coat.

I think that just about covers things here. How about you? What have you been up to lately? I look forward to hearing from you.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by  Eclectic Ali. We’d love you to pop round and join us.

Best wishes,

Rowena

Rosie and ball

PS Rosie insisted I included photo of her. 

 

 

 

 

 

Weekend Coffee Share…9th September, 2019.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share. This week, I’d like to offer you a slice of pavlova with fresh cream, strawberries and passion fruit or piece of Mars Bar Slice. Well, you’re welcome to have both if you like but you might regret it later.

Today, is our 18th wedding anniversary and perhaps it is a sign that we’re no longer newly weds, that I’m sitting here typing away on my laptop, which is teetering precariously on top of the dog (Zac) while my husband has gone to sleep. However, it’s also a week night and so there isn’t much of a chance to swing from the chandelier tonight. However, we did enjoy an absolutely delicious meal prepared by my gorgeous support worker and I made the pavlova for dessert. It’s also still a bit too cold to do anything really special. We’re planning to go on a Sydney Harbour Cruise when it warms up a bit both to celebrate our anniversary, but also my 50th birthday. I didn’t want us to just go out for dinner because it was expected. I wanted us to make the most of it. Do something really special when the timing is right and everything aligns.

These days when I look back on that bride and groom, I feel we were very naive, even though we were 35 and 32 at the time. Each of us had been through some pretty intense experiences. I’d survived two lots of brain surgery, had backpacked through Europe as well as seeing quite a lot of Australia. Geoff lost his Dad when he was 16, his Mum just after we met and his brother in between. However, when I mentioned this sense of naivety to him tonight, I more or less concluded that it was more a sense of ignorance about what it was like to become parents. I’m not sure if anything can prepare you for that both in terms of the most extreme joy you’ll ever experience and the most stress, worry, frustration and a whole lot else. Before kids, there were relationships, connections and responsibilities, but there was that sense that you could always leave. Walk away. Or, in the case of your parents, runaway from home which always seemed a lot brighter in the middle of an argument, than being homeless has in reality. As a parent, you’re it…especially when your children are small.

In hindsight, my childhood seems well removed from what I’ll refer to as the realities of life. My friends and I played in the bush, caught tadpoles, climbed trees and swung from metal bars, which would now be deemed unsafe. Well, that’s exactly what they were and I still remember a friend falling off and breaking her front tooth. We also played “brandings on the wall” where you had to move from one side of the wall to the other without being hit by a tennis ball traveling at speeds almost exceeding Australian fast bowler Dennis Lillie who was “pounding down like a machine” back in the day. Don’t think I played brandings more than once, making a hasty retreat back to playing hopscotch or cat and mouse in the school weather shed. This was at the co-ed country school I attended for a few years and I think I went back to playing hopscotch and stayed away from the boys most of the time.

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I’ve been thinking a fair bit about my childhood over the last week after driving out to Galston and walking through my old primary school and then driving out to see the old house, which was on five acres with a dam and a horse. They were good times roaming through the paddocks or the bush with my dog, a collie called Lassie (just to be original). There used to be a dairy down the road where my friend used to live and I remember clambering over the hay bales. It was a great place to grow up, although it was rather isolated, especially down our end of town. We moved closer to the city when I was 12 and we were walking distance to the train station and school. So, I became quite independent and was able to get around easily for better or worse.

By the way, I should point out that it’s rather funny pausing for thought with your laptop perched on top of your dog, while they’re breathing in an out. My laptop is rising and falling with his breath, assuming quite a life of its own.

I’ve been keeping up with my goal of blogging at least three times a week for the Weekend Coffee Share, Thursday Doors and Friday Fictioneers.

My post for Thursday Doors featured the first house my parents bought together back in 1971 when I was two years old. I wanted to share their story as a point of encouragement to young people looking at saving to buy their first home. It really can seem like mission impossible and for many in Sydney these days, it is. Indeed, we bought our first home just out of Sydney on the NSW Central Coast which is much more affordable. We also discovered the beautiful beaches and natural scenery away from gridlocked traffic and the rat race. It’s been a great place to bring up our kids. Here’s the link: The Great Australian Dream- Thursday Doors

I had a bit of fun with  my post for Friday Fictioneers and wrote about  The Odd Couple. 

Well, I think that about covers last week in brief and the dog has decided that he’d had enough of supporting my writing and he decided to hop down onto his comfy and sturdy bed.

What have you been up to lately? I hope you’ve been going well.

Well, it’s now Late Tuesday night and I’m only just getting around to posting this. I spent last night trying to find photos online of the dairy which used to be at the end of our street. However, it’s not like it never existed. It only appears as a brief mention in real estate advertisements. Makes me feel older than my years, because it wasn’t THAT long ago.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by  Eclectic Ali. We’d love you to pop round and join us.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weekend Coffee Share – September 10, 2018.

Welcome to Another Weekend Coffee Share!

Ooops! Starting to look like one cupcake was an elegant sufficiency, and two was let’s just say a bit of a mistake. Perhaps, you’d like to indulge. I was reading about cupcakes on a blog last week, which gave me uncontrolled cravings and I whipped up a batch of plain ones with butter icing a few days ago. Tonight, I experimented a bit and swirled strawberry jam through one half, and crunchy peanut butter and chocolate chips through the rest. Butter icing on top…yum! Great with your choice of tea, coffee or whatever else tickles your fancy.

How had your week been?

Rowena & Geoff wedding

Yesterday, was our 17th Wedding Anniversary. We went out for lunch at Eat Street on the Gosford Waterfront where I had fish tacos and Geoff has nachos. These were followed by coffee and a brownie each. We also went to the nursery and bought a yellow rose bush for our anniversary. Yellow roses are more my Dad’s colour and he usually gives mum yellow roses for their wedding anniversary. Yellow roses traditionally symbolise jealousy. However, in our case, we already have a beautiful and very resilient red climbing rose so we wanted something different.

Catherine McAuley Rose

Our rose bush is as pretty as a picture. Please rose bush do not die!

Well, being Spring over here, we couldn’t stop at buying just the rose bush. We would two very small azalias to go with the larger azalia that I’d bought Geoff for Father’s Day. We also bought a pink cineraria and a rosemary bush. We we brought them home, our son called out: “Plant killer”. So, in an effort to show that I’ve at least somewhat reformed, we got stuck into the garden ripping out overgrown grass and weeds and digging holes. Geoff has also done his bit and reinstalled our watering system a few months ago. There is hope.

By the way, I’m waiting patiently for our daffodils to flower. One flowered a few weeks ago and I fully meant to take a photo, but it looked a bit unfortunate locked up in the greenhouse when it should’ve been free. I blame three dogs for its unfortunate imprisonment. They dug up our blueberry bush and crewed it up…grr!

Rowena Lizottes

Posing after our violin performance 2012. Lizotte’s is a rock n’ roll venue where the likes of Diesel have performed…and me! The music school hired the venue for our concert.

While we’re chatting here, I’ve been reminded about my violin. I’ve been working on a short story called “The Violinist” based on my experiences of learning the violin as an adult. I had a bit of a light bulb moment this week, where I actually realized that if I practiced my violin for 30 minutes a day like I was supposed to. Indeed, that’s the very least amount of practice you can do and really expect to make any headway. I should really be doing an hour, which could explain why I can’t even manage to get any practice done at all. If I just settled for doing 5 minutes practice, it would extend out to 15 minutes, maybe even half an hour. Anyway, getting back to my light bulb moment, I realized that if I just did my practice, I probably wouldn’t be wrestling with my violin at all. That my bow wouldn’t be so tempted to wander off diagnonally across the strings and my fingers wouldn’t be so stiff. They’d be well-oiled and they’d actually know their way around the strings instead of feeling lost. No doubt, you’re probably wondering how something that obvious could count as a light bulb moment. Indeed, you’re probably thinking I might need to start looking for a new light bulb, if that’s the best I can come up with. However, there are so many competing distractions, and my violin isn’t at the top of the list. It’s something I love, but I see it more in terms of creative cross-training rather than something I’m ever going to master.

I was quite pleased with the flash fiction I wrote this week for Friday Fictioneers: Dancing With Apollo. I also wrote a post for Thursday Doors and this week I featured some of the miniature embassy buildings at Tazmazia. They’re quite amazing and I highly recommend you check them out in person, but in the meantime, you can enjoy the photographs. I’m really busting to get back to Tassie now. It’s our home away from home.

Well, I hope you’ve had a great week and I’m looking forward to hearing from you and catching up on your news as well.

This has been another contribution to the Weekend Coffee Share hosted by Ecclectic Ali. We’d love you to come and join us.

Best wishes,

Rowena

PS I thought I’d give you a laugh and post this photo of me taking photos at our wedding. You can’t hold a passionate photographer down. One of my friends said she was surprised I didn’t have a camera hidden in my bouquet.

rowena camera wedding

The Photographer Bride: taking photos at my own wedding. Totally incorrigible.

 

Family History Uncovered… Broken-Hearted Ivy Sues for Breach of Promise.

If you haven’t got stuck into the realms of family history, you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Murder, intrigue, theft, broken hearts…I’ve stumbled across the lot, mostly through the online newspapers. Indeed, I haven’t needed to ply elderly relatives with sherry. It’s all been there in black & white, and for better or worse, I’ve been a fly on the wall.

However, while there’s that excitement of stumbling across a bit of intrigue or scandal, I’m also mindful of respecting the people involved. Needing to be understanding, compassionate and above all else, ethical. Remind myself that these details appearing in the news, only represent a brief snapshot of the person’s life. Moreover, the news only reports on the sensational, and not the hum drum everyday. So, it’s far from representational.

This then raises the issue of whether such stories from the past are better left alone, buried in between the lines of text. Or, if there’s any point bringing it all back to life…

My view is, that we can learn quite a lot about ourselves and about life, from the ups and downs of our ancestors and their extended family and social networks. Moreover, since these people share at least some of our DNA, these life lessons are much more tailor-made and geared towards our make-up, and potentially much more relevant than something you’d read in a book. These people might not be us, but they’re at least part of that complex very populated DNA soup, which contributes to who we are.

Yesterday, I went back to 1857 sharing the story of a gripping fight, which took place on Sydney’s North Shore between Thomas Waterhouse, and a menacing thug known as “One-Eyed Bourke”.

Today, I’m sharing another story from my family history treasure trove. Today, I’m bringing you the love story of Ivy and Jack. Well, love story might not be the best way to describe their relationship, because after promising to marry Ivy many times and even after having a baby together, Jack kept Ivy dangling on a string while he started to pursue Paula Muller, who ultimately became his wife. Bastard. Naturally, I’m backing Ivy here, but someone also needs to speak up for Baby Jack as well. Baby Jack’s time on earth was very brief, and at this point I don’t know how long he survived, but it wasn’t long. However, while his father paid for Ivy’s confinement and was at least okay for them to be known as Mr & Mrs Berecry, when it came to actually filling out the registration papers, he balked and baby Jack didn’t get his father’s name. He was registered as “John Wilson” and the space for his father, was left blank. He wouldn’t acknowledge his own son.

Meanwhile, Ivy was left not only with a deep sense of heartbreak, but also the shame of being a “fallen woman”. The sense of limbo of their baby not having his father’s name, and trying to put that right even though their baby was dead.

While you are reading through Ivy and Jack’s story, I thought you ‘d enjoy listening to Phil Davidson singing: Broken Things. It’s

Valentine 1910

I have questioned whether to reproduce this story, and then wondered whether to change the names. However, it’s all there in the online newspapers. It wasn’t told me in confidence. Moreover, this story clearly illustrates just how much our dating culture has changed in a hundred years. I can’t see too many modern daughters submitting to their mother’s wishes regarding who they can date etc. A single parent is now also commonplace. I think it’s important to consider how things have changed. I’d also like my kids to think about who they’re dating, how to treat them and also how they should be treated. While suing someone for breach of promise sounds a bit ridiculous these days, the fact that we can no longer trust a person’s word, is cause for reflection. That’s hardly what I’d call “progress”.

Lastly, I should just point out my family connection with Ivy Wilson. Her mother was my Great Great Grandmother’s sister. We had a John Johnston who married Maria Bridget Flanagan and their daughter, Mary Anne married Thomas Charles Wilson, and had two children Thomas and Emma Ivy Wilson. My grandmother spoke of Mary Anne and how she had a beautiful singing voice.

So, without any further ado, here’s one of the many newspaper reports from the day…

my heart is yours

Enter a caption

BERECRY BACKS DOWN.

LEAVES HIS LASS LAMENTING But Ivy with the Broken Heart

Chases Her Carpenter to Court And Gets a Verdict for £200.

A sanguine-looking young man, arrayed in his working suit, named John Patrick Berecry, a contracting carpenter of Folly Point, was the defendant in an action brought against him at the District Court on Monday and Tuesday, before Judge Murray and a Jury of four, by a young woman named Emma Ivy Wilson of Collins-street, North Sydney, for breach of promise. The jilted one, who was but 21 years of age, three years younger than the loveless swain, claimed £400. Mr. Coyle and Mr. Alroy Cohen, instructed by Mr. J. W. Abigail, appeared for the plaintiff, while Mr. Breckenridge, instructed by Mr. Reynolds, appeared for the defendant. Berecry, in his answer to the plaint, denied the promise of marriage, and said that Ivy Emma was not always willing to marry; and further, that they agreed to rescind the alleged contract. Ivy Emma Wilson, a slender young woman of attractive appearance, living at home with her mother at North Shore, said she was introduced to Berecry by her brother at a picnic at Balmoral Beach at Eight Hour Day, 1907. She was 16 then, and had just finished her education at a girls’ boarding-school. Berecry was invited to a musical evening at her home, and her mother consenting, they kept company for a couple of years. Then, in December, 1909, they became engaged, and he gave her a ring, it being agreed that the wedding would take place on her reaching 21. In January, 1911, she went to Trundle for a couple of months, returning in March. About the end of that month Berecry seduced her, and the intimacy was continued right up to the following November, when a child was born. The infant, however, died shortly after birth. That same night Berecry called at the house, and told both the doctor and the nurse that plaintiff was his wife, but afterwards when a certificate had to be filled in, he retracted it. Some months after this, Berecry keeping her company as usual, she fell ill, and went to the hospital, and afterwards went away to Boggabri for the good of her health. Berecry saw her off. but by this time his PASSION HAD COOLED, for he never wrote to her, nor answered any of her letters. Before this, however, he could write her loving letters a yard long, and one of a bunch ran as follows; — Folly Point, Tuesday. My darling Ivy, — Just few lines to let know that I would wrote before but I was home to late on Monday night from the meeting. I hope you are getting on all right and soon be better for I miss you so no where go and I can’t enjoy myself without you. Now loving Bi Bi you are going to give up dancing and you will tell George that you do not want him any more. I gave up Flo and sis for you and I would give up hundred girls for you if will be true to me. Dear love I am going to keep you to your word and go to church every Sunday for about three years and will go one day Miss Wilson and come home Mrs. Berecry….

I was going up to Tom to-night to help to make some picture frames, but I was too tired. I did not feel too well to day. I was going to come home at dinner time but I stuck to it like a britan all day because I had to. Dear love don’t forget to remind me about a strange letter I got from Melbourne, Now don’t forget and I will tell you all about it if you are by your self it is about the best ever had. That hurt me about what that bloke said when Martin kissed you Sunday, he said he will tell gerry on you it hurt, did you see the look Jane give me when he said it and the other girl too, I felt like kicking him all up a tree. Now I got him set like george for saying that. I was going to tell you on Sunday that your ring is going to be a quid cheaper. It was going to be three pound ten, but it is going to be two pound ten. That for writing that letter for nothing. They have some nice ones for two ten the three ten are to heavy, but it don’t matter what they cost so long as it is for you. Dear love I am foreman of this job I am on for about a month if I don’t get the run before then I will be all right my own boss. What do you think, I am the dreadnaught. Now darling Ivy this Is all I have to say time. — Yours loveing Jack. x x x x x (score or more) all for you, nothing for Flo Mc Enmore.

DP826256

A Love Letter, Simon Charles Miger (French, Nemours 1736–1820 Paris)

Plaintiff, continuing, said that once Berecry. when she was ill, wished her to go with him to a party at a Mrs. Haron’s, and because she didn’t acquiesce, he said, ‘There must be somebody there you are afraid to see,’ and going out, he shortly came back ‘

WITH A REVOLVER and called her a blanky cow. She jumped out of bed and snatched away the weapon, which was found to be loaded ; and a little while later Berecry came back with the excuse that he was sorry. They parted good friends, Berecry mentioning that one of the bullets had been intended for himself. The wedding ought to have taken place In January of last year, but she learnt that he had engaged himself to another. Finally, after a lot of talk, they agreed that the wed-ding should come off on July 12; but one Sunday in June she discovered that he had been meeting one Paula Muller, her rival, and this made her so despondent that she drank lysol. Dr. Hastings, however, pulled her through. Berecry said he merely went to tell Paula that he must give her up, and on July 8 he asked Mrs. Wilson, her mother, to arrange for the wedding, recommending her to go to the Rev. Charles Jones, in Liver-pool-street, and promising to find the money for the ring on the ensuing Fri-day. Mrs, Wilson saw Jones, and arranged that the wedding would be performed by a Methodist minister. Then Berecry objected to any Methodist having a hand in it whereupon she got Jones to arrange with the Rev. Macaulay to marry them, and paid him 5s deposit. The ring was bought, and everything looked lovely this time, but when the hour came, Berecry was sick in bed, saying he had been vaccinated. Plaintiff hunted him up, and asked why he hadn’t sent her word, but he told her to go away and not worry him. However, she stayed talking to him till 10 o’clock, and extracted a promise that he would be married on the Saturday. No wedding took place, however, though Berecry took her to the pictures on the Monday. The next night she watched him meet Paula Muller and walk arm-in-arm with her to a picture show in Lower George-street. After he had seen Paula to the tram, plaintiff asked him what he meant by his conduct; but he denied he was with Paula. He next said he couldn’t give up Paula because he had borrowed £60 from her. This kind of humbugging went on for some time, and then finally his mother, when asked what had become of him, tearfully cried, ‘My poor Jack,’ and said he had gone away, she didn’t know where. She told his mother they were to have been married that night, whereupon the old lady said, ‘How could Jack keep you?’ adding that although he was her son, she could give him a character as the biggest liar in the world. A letter plaintiff wrote to him was as follows. — 42 Collins-street, Nth Sydney, 2/7/1913, Wed., 6 a.m. My dear Jack, — Once again you have driven me to desperation, and I can stand It no longer. You always promised before and after our baby boy was born that as soon as I came twenty-one you would marry me. Now you want to cut me off for another woman. You promised mum and I last night you would marry me in three months. Now, Jack, if you intended to marry me, would you be going away to-night to meet another woman? All I ask you is your name for the sake of your baby and my character. I don’t ask you to live with me or, yes, support me, as most people on the Shore think we are man and wife. If you are frightened of breach of promise with this other girl, what about me, that holds your love letters for over five years. The only thing I can see to do is to get Mr. J. W. Abigail’s advice on the matter, and that I intend doing first thing to-morrow, 3rd inst. Only last Saturday you were quite prepared to marry me at any time in the registry office (or rather you said you were) and me to go away for six months and keep it quiet, not to tell anyone. That I was prepared to do. You have broken your promise to me; I have not broken mine. I am prepared to be your wife at any moment, and ask nothing further from you. Once I poisoned myself for love of you, and through the shame which you have caused me. There is no telling how this will end. I can’t sleep at night. I can’t eat or rest day or night. — Your broken-hearted Ivy.

Continuing her story, plaintiff said she received no reply to this letter. She did not again meet Berecry until August 25, at the Quay, when he laughed at her, and inquired if she was trying to put the father of her child into gaol. He later on begged her not to go on with the case, saying that he had not refused to marry her. On October 10 she again met him, when after inquiring when the case would come off, he said, ‘You are only putting your neck in a sling, because I have not yet refused to marry you. I have lots of witnesses against you, and will put in a bill for £20 for your confinement. You will get five years, and I want my rings back.’ Evidence was called to show that Berecry told others that he would marry plain-tiff as soon as she came of age. Berecry did not give evidence, and therefore the matter resolved itself into a question of damages. And the jury, after a very brief deliberation, awarded plaintiff £200. Truth (Sydney, NSW : 1894 – 1954), Sunday 26 October 1913, page 11

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It is interesting reflecting on this situation between Ivy and Jack, because it reminds me about the relationship between Wassily Kandinsky and Gabriele Munter. In 1892, Kandinsky had married his cousin, Anna Chemyakina. She took care of her husband and moved with him to Germany. However, in 1903 Kandinsky met and began a relationship with Gabriele Münter, one of his students at the Phalanx School. The two became inseparable. Kandinsky kept promising to divorce his wife and marry her, stringing love struck Münter along. Finally, in 1911, Kandinsky returned to Russia, and divorced his wife. Yet, he still didn’t marry Gabriele Münter. Rather, he continued living with her as his lover. Unfortunately, when Germany declared war on Russia in August 1914, Kandinsky was considered an enemy alien and only had three days to get out. Since he couldn’t take much with him, he left the bulk of his paintings and possessions with Münter. The couple rushed to Switzerland and while in Zurich, Kandinsky broke up with her. For two years she urged a reunion. It took place in neutral Scandinavia in 1916, but failed. Well, that’s according to some of the sources I’ve read. Others are less clear about the breakup, suggesting he was still stringing her along. Well, Kandinsky did get married, but it wasn’t to Gabriele Münter. Rather, he married 18 year old, Nina Andreievskaya, and he didn’t tell Münter. Indeed, he only came clean four years later when she received a letter from his lawyer demanding she return his personal effects and artworks. Not unsurprisingly, Gabriele didn’t return all his paintings, and kept these as “moral compensation”. While I’m very surprised Gabriel didn’t burn the lot, she actually kept them safe behind a secret wall in her basement during successive raids by the Nazis and Russians. Kandinsky never saw his paintings again. However, in 1957, Münter gave the stash to Munich, Stadtische Galerie in Lenbach. At least, the survival of this collection was a positive outcome of Gabriele’s grief.

By the way, I should point out that Ivy married Abram Hocking in 1915. I lose track of her after the 1950s where she was living in Newcastle. I can only hope that she moved onto greener pastures and found love and happiness.

Best wishes,

Rowena

 

 

 

 

A Walking Tour of Wollombi, Australia.

Welcome to Wollombi, NSW.

After what turned out to be a very convoluted route, which my husband has called “driving to Wollombi via Darwin”, the little red car and I pulled into Wollombi and I did the rest on foot.

In case you haven’t read the  preamble, I’d driven to Wollombi to see historic St Michael’s Church of the Archangel, and also to steep myself in Wollombi’s historic ambiance. It was no exaggeration to say that arriving in Wollombi, felt like stepping out of a time capsule into the 19th Century and I loved that. Love, loved, loved it. It’s so good that some places have in a sense been by-passed, fallen asleep and been spared from the crappinization process. That’s what we loved about so much of Tasmania and it was great to find that so close to home.

Obviously, Wollombi  isn’t a huge metropolis. So, you won’t be surprised that I spotted the Church straight away, but it did feel a bit funny to actually see it in person for the first time, and it was much smaller than expected. Wondered how you could fit both sides of a good Catholic family inside back in the days before TV. I guess they were probably used to squishing in.

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On 1st April, 1891, my Great Great Grandfather, William Henry Gardiner, married his second wife, Jane Ann Lynch from Glendon Grove, Wollombi at St Michael’s. This press excerpt provides a great impression of their special day and I can just hear those bells ringing out:

“On Tuesday last our little town, usually so dull and quiet, was the scene of much excitement, and that eventful day will long be remembered as a red-letter day in the annals of our history. At the early hour of eight o’clock the tolling of the bell at St. Michael’s Church announced that some ceremonies of a very rare occurrence were about to take place there, and immediately crowds of spectators could be seen wending their way to it. Half an hour later two brides (sisters), the Misses Lynch, of Glendon Grove, were standing before the hymeneal altar in the above-mentioned place. The elder, Miss Jane Lynch, who for some years has been residing near West Maitland, was united in the bonds of matrimony to Mr. William Gardiner, a resident of West Maitland, and afterwards her sister, Miss Agnes Lynch, was joined to Mr. Joseph Tripp, of Aberdeen. Each was assisted by two bridesmaids, the former by her sister and niece, Miss Teresa Lynch and Miss Bourke, and the latter by Míss Tripp and Miss Katie Bourke. The Rev. Father Flanagan, who came here the previous evening from Cessnock, performed both ceremonies, and afterwards celebrated Mass, during which the choir, of which Miss Agnes Lynch was a prominent and efficient member, sang some beautiful selections, and as the long procession was leaving the church, Miss M. Kenny played the Wedding March with great effect. On the previous evening the ladies of the Altar Society, as a last tribute of respect to one of their members, decorated with artistic skill the church and altar the walls being hung with magnificent wreaths and festoons. At ten o’clock a start was made for the brides’ residence, and as tho long train o£ buggies passed through the streets the firing of guns and ringing of bells could be heard in every direction.” Tuesday 7th April 1891The Maitland Advertiser & Hunter River Advertiser pg 7.

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The Forge, Wollombi.

Next to the Church, I spotted an intriguing looking building called: “The Forge” and I couldn’t quite make out whether it was a home or a shop. There was a mannequin tied up to a telegraph pole out the front and I’m not sure whether she was waiting for a bus, a ghost or an alien landing, but she’d definitely been heading somewhere before she’d been detained. Macca, the Proprietor, invited me in, even though it was closed and let me take photos, which I really appreciated as this place really felt like home to me. Perhaps, I should be concerned about that, and book myself in with a shrink. However, I love maccabre and I love how random objects can be thrown together in a space, creating a licorice allsorts of possibilities in my head. It also reminded me of exploring under both my grandparents’ houses where things weren’t thrown out, but simply “retired’. What gave this place the edge over your garden-variety vintage store, was Macca’s artworks peering out inbetween old dolls and vintage mannekins a few Sunbeam Mixmasters, books and salvaged farm equipment. He’d also arranged things in intriguing combinations, which ranged from maccabre to down right hilarious.

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Naturally, this place which seemed like a kind of “Mecca to Displaced Euphemora”, deserves its own post and so I’ll be back with more photos.

Meanwhile, I’m heading off to the cemetery. William Henry Gardiner wasn’t buried here, but Jane Lynch’s family is well-represented. I love exploring and photographing old cemeteries like this, especially capturing haunting  shadows lurking on tombstones and the like. They get you thinking.

Anyway, I was delighted to spot this magpie sitting on top of a Celtic Cross, especially when it didn’t dive bomb me as I approached. It’s Spring here, and I’d already been warned about a dive-bombing magpie earlier on the trip and was on guard. I know I often overinflate the dangers of Australian wildlife, but these swopping magpies are beyond a joke.

I walked back to the car via the grocery store and old courthouse.

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By now, it was approaching 5.00PM and impending darkness. It was a windy drive home through Wombat country and I needed to be alert. I was also concerned about having a possible encouter with a kangaroo. They come out and feed on dusk, and let’s just say they’re best avoided.

However, I popped into the local pub for an apple juice and toilet stop before leaving. I very rarely go into pubs and they’re not my scene. However, I really loved the country feel of this one, which felt very authentic and real. Names had been carved into the tables outside. Farm utes were parked out the front. I felt surprisingly relaxed and would’ve loved to stay for a yarn.

I am already planning my next trip and am even looking into camping there with friends. However, next time, no detours. It’s just a 70 minute drive “up the road”.

xx Rowena