tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7432640923920104732024-03-13T19:03:37.041-07:00The House of Lost Vintageannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-22274834298580627472023-08-26T18:20:00.000-07:002023-08-26T18:20:18.453-07:00<div><div class="" dir="auto"><div class="x1iorvi4 x1pi30zi x1swvt13 xjkvuk6" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id=":rtf:" style="padding: 4px 16px;"><div class="x78zum5 xdt5ytf xz62fqu x16ldp7u" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; margin-bottom: -5px; margin-top: -5px;"><div class="xu06os2 x1ok221b" style="margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 5px;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x x4zkp8e x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: var(--primary-text); display: block; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;"><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a" style="margin: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Surgery</span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem;">I wanted to provide an update on my recovery from a revision of knee replacement surgery. </div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem;">Having any surgery when you have Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS) carries with it a risk of increased pain and the spread of symptoms. This risk has been lessened by good management by my pain management specialist, the orthopaedic surgeon and the anaesthetist. Coupled with the excellent care I received <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" tabindex="-1"></a></span>in ICU there appears to have been no spread. The CRPS pain I am experiencing at the moment could have occurred without having undergone surgery.</div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">As you know since having my left hip replacement in January I dislocated this joint twice. Both times carrying out very innocuous movements. I was also having trouble with mobility (much pain resulting in being able to only walk very short distances) which I was blaming on the CRPS. At one point a wheelchair was suggested but I dismissed this without too much thought as I think that would have given me an easy out.</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I am my own worst enemy in this regard as any ache or pain affecting the left side of my body gets blamed on CRPS. </div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">When I mentioned the increased pain and instability in my knee to the orthopaedic surgeon he did not dismiss my comments and started an investigation. He found that there were some issues (read concerning issues)with the alignment of the original knee replacement which resulted in the CRPS thirteen years ago. This misalignment was causing quite serious instability making mobilising somewhat difficult (read very painful) and some sort of issue with my patella.</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">So approaching surgery given what I had experienced in the last 13 years raised a degree of trepidation and fear.</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">So back to day 9 and the exaggerated level of pain. What I am experiencing is the post-operative pain of knee replacement surgery......even though they call it revision it involves opening up the original site, removing some bits, realigning some bits, replacing some bits and putting in new bits. So the pain is expected but nowhere near as bad as I experienced when the original knee replacement was carried out. Whilst the pain is elevated today and I have needed double painkillers I am confident that it will settle once the swelling and stiffness subsides. I am doing physiotherapy-managed exercises bearing in mind the need to be aware of the possibility of impact on the hip joint.....a little complex the physio said. lol<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">In terms of increased stability of the joint, I think this has been successful and I don't feel that my knee is about to collapse when I am walking as it was 10 days ago. I am hoping that what the surgeon has done will prevent any further dislocations....only time will tell. He said to me the day after surgery "I have done enough to stabilise what was a tricky joint" my response was "I hope you have because I am not certain I will let you have another go" He did remind me that my right knee was replaced some 20 years ago and we would talk about this in the future. I am not sure of life the expectancy of a knee replacement. As Miss Sophie says "Grandmother you will have to just google that"</div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Yesterday I did a fair bit of walking - up and down the verandahs and perhaps I have overdone it a bit who knows. I even was thinking that I would go to Book Club on Monday......reassessed that thought today and we will see what tomorrow brings. I have an appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon's nurse tomorrow morning to have the wound checked and hopefully all the dressings removed.</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">I wanted to explain all this to those who have been following the posts to let you know:</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">1. Yes I am in pain which is a mixture of post-surgical and CRPS pain</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">2. The stability in my knee has improved greatly at this point - I am thinking that with the physio intervention, it can only get better.</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">3. It is not hurting as much to mobilise as it was pre-surgery even considering point number 1 and it is only day 9</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">4. I am receiving absolutely A1 gold standard care from <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="x1i10hfl xjbqb8w x6umtig x1b1mbwd xaqea5y xav7gou x9f619 x1ypdohk xt0psk2 xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1a2a7pz xt0b8zv x1qq9wsj xo1l8bm" href="https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100013392881311&__cft__[0]=AZWhiVH4ugaEqDcZsZZQQLDwWfcIyhzOY3v0jpGs3cXbIfLMEbfZ4vx4z-LoNMaRkk34cfkdsx_7Ow78xL5XBya2wvFIb8kmiF8XU-cY3s-_zA&__tn__=-]K-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; border-color: initial; border-style: initial; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration-line: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0"><span class="xt0psk2" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Terry</span></a></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for all the wishes of love and support </div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Cheers <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="x1i10hfl xjbqb8w x6umtig x1b1mbwd xaqea5y xav7gou x9f619 x1ypdohk xt0psk2 xe8uvvx xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r xexx8yu x4uap5 x18d9i69 xkhd6sd x16tdsg8 x1hl2dhg xggy1nq x1a2a7pz xt0b8zv x1qq9wsj xo1l8bm" href="https://www.facebook.com/anne.gleeson.58?__cft__[0]=AZWhiVH4ugaEqDcZsZZQQLDwWfcIyhzOY3v0jpGs3cXbIfLMEbfZ4vx4z-LoNMaRkk34cfkdsx_7Ow78xL5XBya2wvFIb8kmiF8XU-cY3s-_zA&__tn__=-]K-R" role="link" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: transparent; 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z-index: 0;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs xlh3980 xvmahel x1n0sxbx x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x x4zkp8e x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen x1s688f xi81zsa" dir="auto" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; color: var(--secondary-text); display: block; font-family: inherit; font-size: 0.9375rem; font-weight: 600; line-height: 1.3333; max-width: 100%; min-width: 0px; overflow-wrap: break-word; word-break: break-word;">Share</span></div></div><div class="x1o1ewxj x3x9cwd x1e5q0jg x13rtm0m x1ey2m1c xds687c xg01cxk x47corl x10l6tqk x17qophe x13vifvy x1ebt8du x19991ni x1dhq9h x1wpzbip" data-visualcompletion="ignore" style="background-color: var(--hover-overlay); border-radius: 4px; font-family: inherit; inset: 0px; opacity: 0; pointer-events: none; position: absolute; transition-duration: var(--fds-duration-extra-extra-short-out); transition-property: opacity; transition-timing-function: var(--fds-animation-fade-out);"></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><div class="xzueoph" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "system-ui", ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 12px; margin-bottom: 6px;"></div></div></div></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-54816826142757585412023-08-14T21:49:00.000-07:002023-08-14T21:49:10.741-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Patrick Jennings</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Patrick Jennings was born in Pitt Row, Newcastle New South Wales on July 29th 1867 and was baptised a short time later on 11th August 1867 at St Mary’s Roman Catholic Church Newcastle.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Patrick was the fifth son of Thomas and Bridget Jennings who had come to Newcastle aboard the Sirocco in 1864. On the voyage, Thomas and Bridget were accompanied by their sons, Jeremiah (1858 - 1944), William(1860 – 1931) and John (1863 – 1911). A fourth son Thomas was born when they arrived in the colony in 1865 but sadly did not survive infancy, passing away in 1866. A sister Mary was born and died in 1869 and my great-grandfather Michael (1870-1943) completed the family.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not much is known about Patrick’s childhood but it is known Thomas was arrested on many occasions and served custodial sentences for drunkenness but it would appear that he was always able to hold jobs as a labourer or a stone breaker. At some time during his childhood, the family secured accommodation on Adamstown Commonage where we find Patrick at the time of his marriage.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Patrick married Annie Jane McNamara (1870 – 1959) on 10th December 1892 in the Roman Catholic Church at The Junction in Newcastle, New South Wales. Annie was the daughter of Michael McNamara (1845 – 1905) and Mary Jane Brennan (1850 – 1883). Together Patrick and Annie had 10 children.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">John Patrick 1892 -1893</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mary Betrice 1894 - 1971 married Charles Nolan 1891 -1932</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cecil Bertram 1896 - 1987 married Rita M Collins 1894 - 1989</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Katherine Ellen 1900 - 1975</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dorothy May 1901 - 1984 (worked as a housekeeper at the local presbytery for Father E McMahon)</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anastasia 1902 - 1902</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Rita Ursula 1906 - 2001 </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Iva Ursula 1913 - 1994 worked as a milliner: married John Bede Noel (Jack) Massey </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Patricia Joan 1915 - 1942 was a member of the order of Ursuline sisters - Mother Mary Edward.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is reported in Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners’ Advocate on Thursday 15th May 1890 that Patrick took legal action against a man called James Flavey as it was alleged that Flavey having received 5 pound, one shilling and sixpence, from the Manager of Newcastle Coal Company, being wages due to Patrick and appropriating for his own use. Flavey had been arrested on a warrant in Armidale. Patrick withdrew the charges when it came before the court. Of interest to note is that one of Patrick’s nephews, Frederick James Jennings 1881- 1971) son of Jeremiah, married a woman called Anastasia Flavey, daughter of James Flavey. Further research is necessary to prove or disprove this theory of connection.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In June 1900 Patrick met with a serious accident whilst working at the Newcastle Company pit. The newspaper report states that while working underground he tripped and fell heavily onto the socket end of a machine drill which entered the lower part of his body causing a terrible wound. He was in the Royal Newcastle Hospital where he was very well cared for some weeks and unable to work for some time. To support Patrick and his family at this time a benefit concert was held with proceeds in excess of 30 pounds were handed over to Patrick (Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners Advocate, Monday 6th October 1900.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners Advocate Monday, March 4th 1907 provides a report of a fire in the home of Patrick and Annie to which the fire brigade attended and were able to bring the fire under control before any great damage was done. The cause of the fire was said to be caused by upsetting a lamp.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Patrick passed away at 10 Wallace Street, Hurlstone Park on 4th April 1940. His death was reported in the Sydney Morning Herald, Newcastle Herald and Miners’ Advocate and the Catholic Press. Annie passed away on 30/09/1959 at the same address</span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-57353619134980567932023-07-01T18:14:00.003-07:002023-07-01T18:16:18.848-07:00<p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 31px;">THE GREAT CHEATING SCANDAL</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">When we were in Year 6 or perhaps it was Year 5 we were required to sit for an Intelligence Test.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sister Regina was our teacher and she split the class up so we were not sitting anywhere near our friends or anywhere near our usual places. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I had to sit near a boy whose I shall not identify other than to call him AL.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Now AL was a very strange kettle of fish and I would describe his demeanour and behaviour as very odd. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Looking back I suspect he was probably on the autism spectrum but that was never talked of back then.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He was averse to anyone looking at his work and would drape his entire arm around his book so no one could see what he was doing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This was his strategy to prevent “copying”.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, when the results came I was called to the front of the room and asked in front of the entire class if I had cheated. A collective gasp went up from my classmates and of course, I replied “No Sister” because I had not cheated. She then called AL to the front and he was asked if I had copied his work.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He of course responded, “I don’t know Sister”.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I was kept in at lunchtime and Mum was summoned to a meeting with Sister.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">She told Mum that she suspected that I had copied off AL because my score was almost identical to his.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mum said maybe AL had copied off Anne. Sister of course said this was not possible.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>She told Mum if my score was accurate I was not using the gifts that God had given me and not using my intelligence appropriately in class.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">That evening at home I was questioned by Dad. “Did you copy off AL?”. “No” I responded. I didn’t think to tell them about AL’s habit of covering his work to protect it from prying eyes but I convinced Mum and Dad that I had not cheated.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">The outcome of this was Mum had to take me into Hunter Street Newcastle to Latec House (before it fell into disrepair and was later resurrected into apartments) to see the vocational guidance counsellor to re-sit the test.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mum had to leave me there and I was put into a room on my own and I redid the test.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">My score on the second test was almost the same as the first time but a few points higher.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Sister was perplexed as she said my work in class was at best ordinary and with a score like that I should be working as well as the top students in the class.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>She obviously did not take into account my penchant for daydreaming. She did tell Mum that if I did less talking and paid better attention then I would be able to improve my grades. Talking was the only thing that I ever got into trouble for at school and I must admit I did not learn the lesson easily as I was on the verandah with some regularity.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Again the injustice of this situation has been bought to the fore.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There was never any question that AL had copied my answers because he always came top of the class each week in our spelling and Mental Arithmetic. I suspect that he had a photographic memory and I often wonder what become of him.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Until I have written this story I have not thought about this kid since I was in Year 6.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-85467198903192533572023-06-29T22:20:00.001-07:002023-06-29T22:21:53.332-07:00<p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: medium;"><i><u>THE ABC OF FAMILY HISTORY</u></i></span></p><p>As many of you may know in a former life (what now seems a lifetime ago) I managed and investigated allegations made against members of staff, in my employer organisation, pursuant to the NSW Ombudsman's Act. Immediately pre-retirement I managed a team of investigators and my advice to them in conducting an investigation was to follow these rules.</p><p>Accept Nothing</p><p>Believe Nothing and,</p><p>Check everything.</p><p>I was recently part of a group discussing tips and tricks to conduct Family History Research and it occurred to me that these rules could apply to these "investigations" as well and could be taken a little further. What follows is my A - Z of conducting Family History Investigations</p><p>A - <u><b>A</b></u>ccept all information you are given with an open and inquiring mind</p><p>B - <u><b>B</b></u>elieve nothing</p><p>C - <u><b>C</b></u>heck everything and <u>C</u>ite your sources and don't forget about what is written on headstones in <b><u>c</u></b>emeteries </p><p>D - <u><b>D</b></u>ocument every step you take in your research. Your <b><u>D</u></b>irect Line is a good starting place as it shows descendants traced through persons who are directly related to one another as a child and parent</p><p>E - periodically <u><b>E</b></u>valuate your methodology and your <b><u>e</u></b>vidence will be your proof. <b><u>E</u></b>njoying your research is key.</p><p>F - <b><u>F</u></b>ind people who share your interest in Family History. One way to do this is to join a local Family History Society. I like to use <b><u>F</u></b>amily Group Sheets which is a form that presents genealogical information about a nuclear family </p><p>G - <b><u>G</u></b>row your tree - keep adding information to your family tree as you go along. Once the process is started it is ongoing because families are dynamic, transitional and flexible. <b><u>G</u></b>o digital</p><p>H- <b><u>H</u></b>elp others in their research as they may have information that will help you</p><p>I - the <b><u>I</u></b>nternet is a valuable tool but don't believe everything you find without going back to ABC</p><p>J- <b><u>J</u></b>ump in and just get started you never know where it will lead you</p><p>K - <b><u>K</u></b>eep your focus. Although you will go off on different tangents along the way (and this is something I do and it can sometimes lead to amazing discoveries) it is important to have a plan for your investigations.</p><p>L - <b><u>L</u></b>ook for alternative sources of information and don't forget the <b><u>l</u></b>ocal and regional <b><u>l</u></b>ibraries hold great repositories of information</p><p>M - <b><u>M</u></b>ake time for your research and think about the use of <b><u>m</u></b>ind <b><u>m</u></b>aps. It is also important to remember the <b><u>m</u></b>aternal line which is the line of descent traced from the <b><u>m</u></b>other's side</p><p>N - <b><u>N</u></b>etworking both online (using social media for instance) and in person is a great help in your research</p><p>O - <b><u>O</u></b>ral history can be provided by<b><u> o</u></b>lder relatives and you never know when <b><u>o</u></b>pportunities will present themselves</p><p>P - <b><u>P</u></b>lan your research - think about what you know and what you would like to find out. <span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #262626; font-size: 16px;"> </span></p><p>Q - <b><u>Q</u></b>uestion everything - ask why, when, who, where, and how. Plan some <b><u>q</u></b>uiet time for review</p><p>R - <b><u>R</u></b>ead about the general and local history of the time you are researching. Be <b><u>r</u></b>espectful of your fellow researchers </p><p>S - <b>S</b>ometimes work <b><u>S</u></b>ideways - if you cannot find the information on a particular ancestor look at <b><u>s</u></b>iblings or<b><u> s</u></b>iblings of parents</p><p>T- <b><u>T</u></b>hank people who provide you with information. Whilst wills can provide important information remember that people were often described as <b><u>t</u></b>estate - meaning they died without leaving a proper will</p><p>U - <b><u>U</u></b>nderstand new things - for instance, DNA technology and AI are making major inroads into family history research</p><p>V - <b><u>V</u></b>erify your sources of information. If you find something on a website for instance by accessing another researcher's family tree don't accept that it is accurate until you have checked and verified it.</p><p>W - <b><u>W</u></b>rite your story and the story of your ancestors. <b><u>W</u></b>ills can provide important family information</p><p>X - <b><u>X</u></b>ylographer - this is a term used for a person who used and made wooden blocks used in printing illustrations. Sometimes you will come across words, phrases, occupations, diseases, and causes of death that are no longer in common use and this takes some research</p><p>Y - interest <b><u>Y</u></b>ounger family members in the information you are compiling</p><p>Z - use <b><u>Z</u></b>oom in your research to connect to relatives and other researchers</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Happy Researching</b></i></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-44239839062432882702023-06-28T21:05:00.004-07:002023-06-29T19:38:28.636-07:00<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>John Jennings (my great-grandfather’s brother)</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Curator of Sydney Cricket Ground 1899-1911</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">John Jennings was born in Arbut, Galway, Ireland in about 1863. He was the third child of Thomas (1837 – 1917)and Bridget Jennings nee Conroy (1839-1908). As a one-year-old, he travelled to Australia with his parents, and two older brothers Jeremiah (1858- 1944), and William (1861-1931) on board the vessel Sirocco, arriving in Australia on 28/1/1864.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">By 1865 convicts were not being transported to Australia so the colony was experiencing a labour shortage. There had been an influx of immigrants during the 1850s when gold had been discovered and the lure of making a fortune led to many making the decision to make the voyage to Australia. The journey to Australia was arduous, taking up to four months or more. Because of poor hygiene and cramped living conditions, the death rate was high. One in 10 adults and one in 5 children were known to perish. Storms presented a particular problem; when the crew “battened down the hatches” it meant the passengers were confined to their quarters. For those in cabins this was bad enough for those in steerage it would have been intolerable. They were confined to their quarters with all the other passengers, in total darkness, with no ventilation and limited toilet facilities. Seasickness was rife at these times because of the boat pitching in the storm. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After a short period of quarantine, the family would have been “released” into the care of Bridget Tiernan. Bridget was Thomas’s older sister who had travelled to the Colony with her sibling Margaret on board the Hilton in 1855. Bridget had sponsored the family’s migration to Australia allowing them to travel as Assisted Passengers during the voyage.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Initially, the family lived in Pitt Row, Sandhills (which was the area around Nobbys) with Bridget and her family. Sometime later the family moved to the Adamstown area. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once in the Colony, the family had four more children Thomas (1865 – 1866), Patrick (1867-1940), Mary (1869-1869) and Michael William (1870 – 1943).</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Whilst not much is known about his early life in Newcastle, John’s father Thomas had various periods of incarceration, generally for offences relating to alcohol use, with sentences ranging from a day to a week. Thomas was always in work however but I imagine his childhood would not have been easy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On 12/01/1889 at the age of 25 John married Casina Elizabeth Hickens (Kickens) (1861-1919 )in Sydney. Casina had a troubled background have spent several years from the age of 6 at the Randwick Asylum for Destitute Children following her father’s desertion. In 1875 at the age of 13, she was apprenticed to Mrs G Berne of Bega. This was the year that Mr Berne died under mysterious circumstances. Returning on horseback from an auction, carrying 500 pounds his body was washed away in the Bega flood. The cash was never located but an empty money belt and the remains of a foot in a riding boot were found weeks later. The local bootmaker was said to have identified the boot as Mr Berne’s. The Bernes’ eldest daughter Dagmar was the first woman to enrol in medicine in Australia at the University of Sydney in 1885. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In 1899 John Jennings or Jack as he was known took on the position of caretaker of the Sydney Cricket Ground. The couple had no children of their own and lived on-site at the SCG. Family stories and research indicates many of their nieces and nephews visited them there. John held the position till his untimely and unexpected death from bowel cancer on 30/09/1911.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In an article on the SCG “From Horses to Computers – Curators of the SCG” the SCG wicket was credited as one of the best batting strips in the world under John Jennings’ curatorship. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This was largely due to his introducing covers for the wicket and levelling the rise that had developed in the Randwick end of the wicket area due to years of constant topdressing. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Casina passed away in Sydney on 19/03/1919. At this time she was residing with a niece at Florence Villa, Cameron Street, Rockdale NSW.</span></p><div><br /></div><p></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-82359517983950745952023-04-11T17:26:00.000-07:002023-04-11T17:26:08.219-07:00<p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <b><i><u><span style="font-size: large;">A TRIP TO HOSPITAL</span></u></i></b></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I can still remember as a child being admitted to hospital to have my tonsils and adenoids removed. I was about four years old at the time and the memory is a very vivid one.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">In those days it was it was a very different scenario to an admission for the same procedure today. In today’s scenario you would be admitted today and home tomorrow. Back then you were admitted for four or five days. It was also not encouraged for parents to visit whilst you were a patient as it is today when parents stay with their child around the clock.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don’t recall having any preparation for my visit to the Mater. On the appointed morning I was taken by my parents to the hospital. Dad would not have had a car back then so I am not really sure how we got there. What I do remember was being dressed in my pyjamas and dressing gown. My dressing gown was pale green chenille with yellow and pink flowers on the bottom. Mum tells me that she made this for me by cutting down one of her old dressing gowns as was the practice at the time.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I remember waiting in the waiting room where there was a very large grandfather type clock which I found fascinating. My name was called and I was told to go with the nice lady. Being the good little girl I was, (back then) off I went without a backward glance to where Mum and Dad were waiting. They told me however that they would be waiting right there for me.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I remember being on a trolley and being wheeled into theatre (although I did not know this was what was happening at the time) and a doctor asking me what my favourite thing was and I told him fairies. He asked me what colour fairies I liked and I told him pink and purple. He then told me he was going to help me go to sleep and I would dream about the fairies. There was no explanation as there would be today about a mask being put over my face. I told him I was not sleepy and he said I would go to sleep very soon because he was magic. I remember the mask being placed over my face and floating away. I really do think I dreamt about the fairies.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtffkhJR-o9bATSjG_n6VX0tTQwQjGksnlmUEFOa2-TGJ5JJ2ujv_l-gPGbU8ZU5slYl8N1r0FUCuu0IzSxfDebG1RNqsZodRP3IQz68SlYbgm290AOsZFtAset8tmc46fLLsLyzgN7W1PeGPPvpFp5D14pr3RBBh1XCr2Hejhb1p9BeAtA0Ap-f3KA/s1000/fairy.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="751" data-original-width="1000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQtffkhJR-o9bATSjG_n6VX0tTQwQjGksnlmUEFOa2-TGJ5JJ2ujv_l-gPGbU8ZU5slYl8N1r0FUCuu0IzSxfDebG1RNqsZodRP3IQz68SlYbgm290AOsZFtAset8tmc46fLLsLyzgN7W1PeGPPvpFp5D14pr3RBBh1XCr2Hejhb1p9BeAtA0Ap-f3KA/s320/fairy.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I woke up in a strange bed with someone else pyjamas on and I felt like someone had lit a fire in my throat. I was not allowed out of bed for the next few days and was fed on jelly, junket and foul tasting broth.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I remember trying to ask were was my mum and being told not to talk. Now those of you who know me well will realise that this was a massive challenge.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">After a few days I was finally told I would be going home. Now I expected to be taken back to the room with the grandfather clock but I was taken in a wheelchair to a waiting ambulance to be taken home. There were two or three other passengers sitting in the back of the ambulance and when they had been dropped off the driver asked me if I wanted to hear the siren. Well it had all been worth it as we came along the streets near my home with the siren ringing. I say ringing because it was a bell clanging as we approached home.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Convalescence followed for a few weeks after this and I remember home made jelly and mum’s home made ice cream (Oh what a treat).</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-20421893226716194112023-04-10T15:21:00.001-07:002023-04-10T15:22:32.371-07:00<p> </p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Further history of the Jennings Family</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It has been some time since I posted anything to the site I think mainly due to the surgery to repair my arthritic hip and the complications which have ensued in the recovery phase. I am hoping to amend that and continue to provide updates on my family history research. Today's offering is about my great grandfather's brother Jeremiah Jennings. Jeremiah was an interesting character, he worked as a coal miner, served on the Adamstown Municipal Council as an alderman and was Mayor from 1896 -1897.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><u><span style="font-size: large;">Jeremiah Jennings</span></u></b></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jeremiah Jennings was born in Arbut, Galway, Ireland in about 1858. He was the oldest child of Thomas and Bridget Jennings. As an eight-year-old he travelled to Australia with his parents and two younger brothers on board the vessel Sirocco, arriving in 28/1/1864.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When Jeremiah set sail for Australia he was accompanied by his parents and his two younger brothers, William (1861-1931) and John (1863-1911). Jeremiah’s father Thomas, had a sister Bridget, residing in the Colony who sponsored the family’s migration allowing them to travel as Assisted Passengers on the voyage.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Once in the Colony the family had four more children Thomas (1865 – 1866), Patrick (1867-1940), Mary (1869-1869) and Michael William (1870 – 1943).</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At the age of 19, on 3rd November 1877, Jeremiah married Elizabeth Hamilton (nee Gore) (who was 26)at St Mary’s Roman Catholic Church in Newcastle. Elizabeth was born on 14th December 1851. She was the daughter of Arthur Herbert Gore (1818 – 1878 ) and Mary Anne Hodstone (1833 – 1868). Following her mother’s death in 1868, two of Elizabeth’s younger siblings, William(6 years)and John Thomas (4 years) were given over to the care to the Randwick Children’s Asylum. Elizabeth’s father it would appear was in gaol at the time.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Elizabeth had been married previously to Richard Hamilton (1848-1874) and brought two children to the relationship. John “Dinny” Hamilton (1872-1955), - married Louisa Wilson and Helena Miler. Dinny was a member of Adamstown Rosebuds Soccer Club for 66 years and was known in the Club as the "Grand Old Man". Marion May “Cissy” Hamilton (1874 – 1947). Married Albert Bramley </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Together Elizabeth and Jeremiah had 10 children.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Margaret M - 1878 - 1915 married John Holloway</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Alice Maude 1880 - 1946 married William S Stone</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Frederick James 1881- 1971 married Anastasia Flavey</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Florence Bridget 1883- 1963 married Thomas Nolan - t<i>heir grandson Vincent Farrell was killed whilst a prisoner of war in World War 11</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Elizabeth Catherine 1887 - 1960 married Richard James Cox</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">William Patrick 1888 - 1977 married Margaret McKee <i>(served NSW Police for 38 years rising to the rank of Inspector)</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Christina Casina 1890 - 1891</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jeremiah A 1892 - 1952 married Lillian McElroy ( <i>known as Bull Jennings and had a promising soccer career but ub 1918 suffered a bullet wound to the leg. He was the leading groundsman at Jubilee Oval Kograh)</i></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Casina Ellen 1894 -1949 married Henry Turnbull</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In January 1880 Jeremiah was sentenced to one month’s imprisonment in Maitland Goal for assault at Adamstown – </span><i>Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners Advocate, Friday 16th January 1880.</i></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In 1894 Jeremiah was involved in a strange case of stone throwing. It would appear a neighbour’s son had been throwing stones at his home for some weeks. When the identity of the stone thrower was discovered the matter was brought before he courts and the culprit found guilty and chose gaol over the paying the fines imposed. </span><i>Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners' Advocate (NSW : 1876 - 1954) Wednesday 11th April 1894 page 7 </i></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jeremiah worked as a coal miner. In 1898 he was overcome by carbon monoxide whilst assisting in the recovery of 15 bodies at the Dudley Pit. The newspaper report states that he was bought to the surface in an unconscious condition and had to be attended by several doctors. Elizabeth was present at the pithead and also had to be treated by doctors as she went into hysterics. </span><i>Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners Advocate </i></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In 1903 the miner’s lodge organised a benefit concert for him and the family, which had a very successful result. At that time Jeremiah had injured his back and had been unable to work for over 12 months. </span><i>Newcastle Morning Herald and Miners Advocate, Thursday 25th January 1900</i></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He served several terms as and Alderman and Mayor of the Adamstown Council. He was also active on the management of the Adamstown School of Arts as well as an active interest in Mining Lodges. Jeremiah served as Mayor of Adamstown Municipal Council from 11/2/1896 – 8/2/1897</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He was the Manager of the Adamstown Rosebuds Soccer Club, in particular at the time of the winning 1909 State Cup team. Two of his sons William and Arthur, were members of the team and his stepson, Denis Hamilton was the Secretary of the Club. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jeremiah and Elizabeth resided in Adamstown and had a small cottage on the shores of Black Ned’s Bay at Swansea. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The latter part of their life was spent in the home of their daughter Cassie and her husband, Harry Turnbull, at Cardiff.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Elizabeth died on 12th December 1942. At the time of her death the Newcastle Herald reported that she left 125 direct descendants – 13(?) children, 61 grandchildren, 50 great grandchildren and 1 great, great grandchild. Jeremiah died on 16th May 1947. They are both buried in Sandgate Cemetery</span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div></div><p></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-40857849950629254732022-12-25T23:15:00.001-08:002022-12-25T23:15:20.957-08:00<p><br /></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">CHRISTMAS MEMORIES</span></p></blockquote><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I always remember Christmas as a magical time. Back then we would have a certain build up towards Christmas Day.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">School would finish a week or ten days before the anticipated event. In those ten days we would “harvest” and decorate the Christmas tree. There was no such thing as an artificial tree for many years in our family. Dad would often bring the tree home and we would wait till the next morning to begin decorating. We would make paper chains. There were the decorations we had made at school in craft, we would make silver stars and these were added to a few precious decorations that were bought out to ornament the tree. I recall that the tree would often look a little worse for wear before we would start but by the time we had finished it stood in pride of place in the lounge room in all its magnificence.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then there would be the visit to Santa and the Santa photo. Mum would deck us out in our Sunday best and take us into either Winns or David Jones where we would line up to take our turn at talking to Santa to ask for our desired gift. Mine was alway a book of some kind or a doll when I was younger. I recall that Santa would never promise what he was not able to deliver. He would always say something like “I will do my best but you must remember that Santa has lots of boys and girls to visit and lots of boys and girls are wanting whatever” he would then say that he would leave something special for us if he could not give what we asked for, thus adding to the anticipation.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then there would be the children’s Christmas Parties, for us, hosted by Dad’s workplace and the local R S L. Hundreds of kids and their parents would congregate in a local hall. There would be lots of party food, party pies and sausage rolls, sandwiches, cakes and lollies. Always make-up cordial to drink and cups of tea for the mothers. Santa would arrive much to excitement of the waiting kids. Silence would descend so we could hear our names being called. Santa would call our names in age groups and present us with an age appropriate gift. All the 10 year old girls for example would receive the same present. I remember when I was about 11 receiving a beach towel which I though was pretty special to have my very own towel different from the rest of the family.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then there was the Christmas house clean. I do not remember my childhood home being anything other that meticulously clean and tidy when I was a kid. But because Christmas was approaching the house would be cleaned from top to bottom and we would all have a part to play in this ritual. There was no reluctance from myself or any of my siblings as this was an important part of the Christmas preparations.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">There was also the yearly visit to David Street, Georgetown. Now this was a magical evening. Dressed in our pyjamas and brunch coats we would set out as a family to walk the short distance to David Street where every house in the street was decorated and lit by fairy lights. I longed for something like that to happen in our street but of course it never did. We would often see school friends on similar family outings and after checking out each house we would make our way home discussing the merits or otherwise of each display. We would always all agree however that it was always better that last year.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">We would go to bed early on Christmas Eve. If we had daylight savings back then I am sure it would have still been daylight as we would go to bed early in any case. I remember I would be in bed feigning sleep and telling myself I would stay awake all night see Santa. I would soon be asleep and when morning dawned we would gather around the tree as a family to open our gifts. I don’t recall if Mum and Dad got presents as it seemed to be all about us five kids. After this off we would go to Mass where we would be keen to tell any friends present what Santa had brought us.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">When we got home a quick breakfast and then Mum would begin lunch preparations. Always a hot lunch, baked chicken and vegetables followed by Plum pudding and custard. The plum pudding would always have threepence and sixpences in it and as a little kid I was always terrified that I would swallow one and be rushed off to hospital. Oh how carefully I would chew that pudding.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">My Grandfather would always join us for lunch and this always made it a special occasion. As a very young child I used to worry about Pop as he lived alone and I did not like the thought that he would be lonely.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">After lunch we would all help with the dishes and the clean up and we would be sent outside to play with our Christmas gifts while the adults rested. I remember I would generally receive a book so I never objected to this arrangement as it would give me a chance to get lost in a story. It seemed always to be a sweltering day except for the Christmas that I got a bicycle. That year it rained torrentially for two days and I had to wait till the day after Boxing day to try out the longed for bicycle.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-50913330464127301332022-11-23T20:28:00.000-08:002022-11-23T20:28:16.979-08:00<p> <span style="font-size: large;">The Gehrig Family </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Johann Linus Gehrig on 11/11/1837, was the son of Franz Gehrig and Anna Maria nee Frenzel. He was born in the village of Neudorf, Germany which was a few kilometres north of the town of Eltville on the Rhine. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At 12 years of age his family emigrated to Australia on the Parland, the second ship to bring assisted German vinedressers to New South Wales after regulation in 1847 allowed foreigners to be assisted for specific purposes. The Scheme ran until 1856 and more than 800 families were introduced as vinedressers or coopers to work for established landowners for a 2 year period. The regulations required that a man be married , with or without children. He had to bring a special form signed by the parish priest or mayor to testify age, health, character and credentials. The Certificates were in German on one side and English on the other and were examined by the Immigration Board in Sydney on arrival. If there were problems, payment of bounty to the landowner or the recruiting agent was withheld pending explanations. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">John’s father Franz Gehrig, died within just a year of arriving in Australia, thus he was cared for by his mother Anna Maria and his two step brothers, William and Joseph Frenzel. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">in 1860 John married Elizabeth Fischer and together they had 14 children. Mary Anne Josephine Sophie was my great grandmother.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not much is known about Elizabeth’s origins. Family story indicates that she was not treated well by her father in Germany and she came to Australia with friends of the family. On a promise to send her home after a year, but the family fell on hard times and Elizabeth never saw parents again. She was approx 16 years of age when she married John. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In 1862 John was naturalised at the age of 24, his place of residence was the Allyn River, Dungog. This was probably the time when he wanted to buy land of his own, as naturalisation was a prerequisite for land ownership. John Gehrig passed away in 1914 and Elizabeth in 1923 </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRLtmKmEWtz3CPA68Hv-9op_QP23oegsDhkoaEHJcpr2vJjMKPaqlCNZc-x8hXv4hvfd9e8JOw9pC0H8E1JIWWPGC7xPX_uL2CrRKYzJAvyO_RfGEUwKz2TZTanvZ8tS_NLHgF-XCn5G-o0rZyQiBt4ORJB_xZ_6GIZWlKj3tqYVwDUP30U-9p5OwaUQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="518" data-original-width="936" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjRLtmKmEWtz3CPA68Hv-9op_QP23oegsDhkoaEHJcpr2vJjMKPaqlCNZc-x8hXv4hvfd9e8JOw9pC0H8E1JIWWPGC7xPX_uL2CrRKYzJAvyO_RfGEUwKz2TZTanvZ8tS_NLHgF-XCn5G-o0rZyQiBt4ORJB_xZ_6GIZWlKj3tqYVwDUP30U-9p5OwaUQ=w641-h384" width="641" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-59243425724253645802022-11-20T17:57:00.000-08:002022-11-20T17:57:05.305-08:00<p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">MY DAD </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Today is the 11th anniversary of my Dad's death. On 21st November 2011 he passed away in Hunter Valley Private Hospital. The gerontologist told Dad a few weeks earlier that he could not return home to his beloved wife and home. He was not happy about this advice. He objected loudly and strongly. Much work was done to find a suitable placement for him and this came through on the afternoon that he died. His last wish not to go into care was circumvented by his passing. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dad was and is my hero….sadly he is no longer with me physically but he is there with me in spirit all of the time. I hear his voice often urging me through difficulties and celebrating achievements. Dad lived a life blessed by the love of a faithful, loving wife and loving children.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dad’s life as a kid was filled with much sadness but he told me had many happy memories from his childhood. He once won a fancy dress competition when his mother made him a costume “stop here for trams” It was the depression and there was much money so his Mum dressed him as a tram/bus stop. He could not remember what he won and said it was probably just a certificate and he felt very proud to have won and very proud of his mum for making his prize-winning costume.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">He remembers his school days at the Catholic schools at Broadmeadow and Adamstown as happy times as he had a thirst for learning. He instilled this in me as the years passed. He remembers receiving the sacraments and he told me once his First Communion was a memory that held a special place for him and filled his necessitous life with great joy.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">As there was never much money, accommodation was by necessity shared and often overcrowded. He told the story of living in Lambton with his Mum and Dad, four siblings, Aunt and Uncle and their four kids. All in a small two-bedroom house. I was talking to one of these cousins (R) and he told the story of getting knocked by a car at the front of the house (they played outside in all-weather as there was not much room in the house). I asked R if he got into trouble and if he went to hospital. His response was he was not the one who got into trouble but his older brother (J) and Dad were scolded for not keeping an eye on him. As for hospital he said, such were the times, this was not even a remote option. He said he was allowed to stay inside for the rest of the day and this was a rare treat. Dad maintained a strong and loving friendship with these men through his life.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">One of his enduring memories was being sent outside when his mother was giving birth to the youngest of his sisters. Dad knew that something of import was happening so he stood on a box outside the bedroom window and watched the whole event unfold. He said he, nor his actions were ever discovered. He said however, when misdemeanours were discovered discipline was hard and physical. He bore no ill-will towards his parents for this as that was how parenting happened.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">He always said he remembers his childhood as a happy time despite the hardships and difficulties. The family moved often and this is something that I could never quite understand. When Dad became too infirm to drive I would often take him out for a drive in my car. One particular day we were in Broadmeadow and he was pointing houses where he had lived. After the fourth or fifth house (mostly along Brunker Road) I asked why they had moved so regularly and quite matter of factly his response was “The old man was not good at paying the rent”.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly Dad’s mother, my grandmother, died when Dad was just 12 years old. Dad’s youngest sister Maureen, was just a tiny baby. Grandmother had pernicious anaemia and there was no cure or treatment. He recalled however, his aunties boiling up masses of liver (lambs fry) and his mum drinking the resultant liquid. I cannot even imagine doing this. Dad, being the eldest of the five children, gave up school at this time to care for his younger siblings. He can remember following the horse-drawn hearse through the streets of Broadmeadow to make the train journey to Sandgate Cemetery. The vision of the black plumes on the horse’s heads remained with Dad throughout his 87 years.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The family were living in Lambton at the time of his mother’s untimely death but soon after moved to back to Broadmeadow. The lived opposite the Premier Hotel where Hunter Pain Clinic now stands ( a place I visit often). Back in Dad’s day it was a Pool Hall and they lived on the top floor. My Grandfather’s job was to manage the pool hall. I suspect the move back to Broadmeadow was so Pop could be near his sister who helped with the kids when she could. Ultimately however, Dad was not able to care for his siblings ( the youngest being just a few months old) and they were placed in care. No foster care in those days…..sadly the siblings were separated the girls going to Monte Pio in Maitland and Uncle Bill to Murray Dwyer at Mayfield West. This decision caused difficulties in the family for many years. The female siblings felt a great sense of betrayal and bitterness towards their father and Aunty for not being able to provide them. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dad did not go into care because by this time he was almost 14 and went to work. He worked for the Railways. When WW11 broke out he wanted to join the Army but the railways were a “protected” industry. Dad decided that if he could not join the army he would stop going to work. His boss came around to the house and asked him if there was something wrong and Dad told him he wanted to join the Army so his boss signed the forms and Dad joined up.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">He served in Borneo and New Guinea and whilst he was home on leave he met Mum at his Aunty’s home (where she was working as a dressmaker) and they married at the end of the war. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I read somewhere recently that dying well is simply an extension of living well. My Dad died as he lived surrounded by those who loved him. He gently slipped away with Mum and his kids, some of his grandkids and great grandchildren by his side. He had “waited” I believe several hours for Mum to be with him when he made this last journey. His passing was as gentle as he was and he quietly went to meet his God. He was asleep, his breathing slowed and he was gone. Then the realisation that life would not be the same again became apparent. Just as they did everything together, Mum was there to hold his hand and prayerfully guide his passing.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I miss my Dad. His story goes on in his five children, ten grandchildren, twenty great grand children and two great great grandchildren. </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Something will always remind me that Dad is close and watching over me.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-Ktjr0uazQnBrgKD9WSc1Ej0KcFtwXHgJrHMrJHfhkLOb4wTbNRdab6CFbRUHT_J0HbTgnuESAd_tWMcgtU3ABLq1vuUm3hFUsGLgzapI_17UKjC9yVXcpNZWspZGkKMZrNNjStuJ6ZGIZ6IqHonHTEyGv2qVmrI8YirabtpP7ES8GNbpl8r7Kv-Fg/s1534/the%20kiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1121" data-original-width="1534" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf-Ktjr0uazQnBrgKD9WSc1Ej0KcFtwXHgJrHMrJHfhkLOb4wTbNRdab6CFbRUHT_J0HbTgnuESAd_tWMcgtU3ABLq1vuUm3hFUsGLgzapI_17UKjC9yVXcpNZWspZGkKMZrNNjStuJ6ZGIZ6IqHonHTEyGv2qVmrI8YirabtpP7ES8GNbpl8r7Kv-Fg/s320/the%20kiss.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-28366547413264661672022-11-01T01:54:00.000-07:002022-11-01T01:54:10.919-07:00<p> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue";"><span style="font-size: large;">THE RACE THAT STOPS A NATION</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I remember when I was in Year 4 at Primary school the Melbourne Cup was televised for the first time. The year was 1960. It was the year that Graham Thorne was kidnapped in Sydney in a bid to extort money from his parents who had won the Opera House lottery. The Olympic Games had been held in Rome. Elvis Presley, Bill Haley and the Comets and Jonny O’Keefe were being played on the radio.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">In those days television was available for one month’s free trial. Now this was a good sales ploy because once television was brought into a home it very rarely ever returned to where it came from. Prior to this any television watching had occurred by looking through shop windows. Television had been introduced into Australia in 1956 and it is estimated that by 1960 1/3 of all homes in Sydney and Melbourne had a television set.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I come from a long line of punters and a search of Trove will show many examples of my Uncles and cousins being fined for illegally taking bets. In keeping with this family tradition Dad decided he would like to have television for the Melbourne Cup – the race that stopped a nation. He said however and he was adamant, that the television would be returned to Churchills from where he and Mum bought it when the month free trial was finished. To receive a signal you needed a mast and antenna to be fitted to the roof of the house. There was great excitement a couple of days before the running of the Cup when we came home from school to see the workmen erecting the aerial. We knew then that it was real and television was coming to Baird Street, the street on which we lived.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">The day of the Cup arrived and Dad did not go to work in anticipation of the big event. Hi Jinx was the winner, a brown New Zealand bred mare at the odds of fifty to one. Hi Jinx was the sentimental favourite and my dad had placed a bet on this particular horse. Well because of that bet the television never did go back. Dad said that if he had lost his bet there would be no more television in our house. How lucky he was and more than that how lucky were we.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">1960 was the 100th Melbourne Cup and the great thoroughbred Tulloch run in the Melbourne Cup that year and was unplaced (the only time in his racing career).</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqrGczx710_Az4zpsZ6PIR6-cFZGZPKECSmqWQdwM2M84JEum8ZZuG3KFoolVZH8OVF4ke4EWALHs0zyfztkoamS41JhjUNbkwZCF5dZTab9pE6PilFp5ILSIj3l_StQm5LWDRBQzm3-LlWeiUfyJ5j4hvZdDtyejCbtb73bkbZUvCLN21cmuosgQn1A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="640" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiqrGczx710_Az4zpsZ6PIR6-cFZGZPKECSmqWQdwM2M84JEum8ZZuG3KFoolVZH8OVF4ke4EWALHs0zyfztkoamS41JhjUNbkwZCF5dZTab9pE6PilFp5ILSIj3l_StQm5LWDRBQzm3-LlWeiUfyJ5j4hvZdDtyejCbtb73bkbZUvCLN21cmuosgQn1A" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Those of you that have ever discussed Melbourne Cup with me know that I always have a bet on the Cup and I always have a bet on any mare in the field. Only nine mares have won the cup since Hi Jinx – Makybe Diva winning three times in a row. So I have had a couple of wins. People have assumed that this betting pattern, on my part, is because of my feminist leanings little do they know of this story. I always also have a bet on any grey horse in the Cup and sometimes you do find a grey mare……but my betting wins are few and far between.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Television was only turned on at particular times during the day in our household and if we had misbehaved television privileges were denied. We were not allowed to watch television after a certain time and this was very early on school nights and then only after our homework had been completed. </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I remember Hi Jinx fondly and I am thankful for her win as it enabled us to keep the “television.</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-14703404150242598132022-10-14T01:36:00.001-07:002022-10-14T01:36:41.900-07:00<p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> Beauty Rituals</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I saw a post on Facebook earlier in the week that reminded me of hairstyles when I was a kid. I have always had short hair. For whatever reason I have never been able to grow my hair to any length. I am blessed with really thick hair which just gets thicker not longer.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway as a a kid Mum would often have a go at cutting our hair particularly our fringes. Now when this happened they were always on a slant and when dad got home he would straighten them up and the fringe would be extremely short and still crooked. These hair cutting events would invariably happen around school photo time and in order to hide the crooked fringe Mum would pin it all back of the forehead and plonk a bow on top. In those days I really wanted to have long hair but sadly that was not to be. Having been reminded about this it got me thinking about other things our mothers did to our hair and the things we did to ourselves in the name of beauty.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">There were the curling tongs. These were a similar in shape to the modern day curling tongs but of course were not connected to electricity. Mum would heat them on the flame of the gas stove then when they heated she would apply them to our hair to produce curls. Now having been afflicted with “hair as straight as sticks” it never really worked to give a curl just a frizzy bit on the end. If you happened to move your head during this process then you would have a burn on the place the tongs would contact. And the smell of burning hair would pervade the house for many hours.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then there was rag curls. This also met with limited success with my straight hair. Mum would spend hours wrapping our hair around pieces of rag before we would go to be and in the morning we were meant to be transformed into a Shirley Temple look alike. My younger sister had long hair (which I always envied) and her hair would have some semblance of curl. Mine on the other hand would just be sticking out at odd angles all over my head.</span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Kiss curls were fad of my teenage years. I would spend a great deal of time in front of the mirror pinning my hair in bobby pins to achieve a perfect look of kiss curls framing my face. By the time I perfected this technique. kiss curls had gone out of fashion and sweeping bangs were the order of the day. This is something that I could achieve with relative ease, having thick hair and the right cut…Cilla Black was popular at the time and we all aspire to look like her with sweeping side bangs and a full fringe. Hair rollers were sometimes needed to achieve this look for special occasions when you wanted a more dramatic effect. So you would wind your hair around these massive rollers and stick pins in them and off you would go to bed for a very restless night of trying to get comfortable despite the hardware prodding your scalp. When the rollers came out you would spray your hair with lacquer….a substance that made your hair feel like toffee and could withstand a tropical cyclone. The lacquer came in a clear glass bottle with a pump atomiser attached. Mothers were great users of rollers for themselves. Many a mother would be seen at the shops on a Saturday morning or at confession on a Saturday afternoon with the hair in rollers covered by a colourful scarf in preparation for a night out or Mass on Sunday morning. The scarves were gaily coloured, often souvenir scarves with greetings from Port Macquarie or Tasmania emblazoned on them.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXMsG7XGiU8NP9j9l9mBvCmsLtGaT99Ed307FGUFxoefflUDs91i0sS1IlNSYwTN1fPvRCkIhSIPlm3mSAf0QAdlE4iUqrCu25UjX7UZ3Y_LM6bCagrfTJZ0l5AUKUQvqbPILefPusDFzV1ONb6eWqlNNE47QgrSM5WbfZzcO5W3kDR44nRItt_hTpaQ" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img alt="" data-original-height="522" data-original-width="936" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiXMsG7XGiU8NP9j9l9mBvCmsLtGaT99Ed307FGUFxoefflUDs91i0sS1IlNSYwTN1fPvRCkIhSIPlm3mSAf0QAdlE4iUqrCu25UjX7UZ3Y_LM6bCagrfTJZ0l5AUKUQvqbPILefPusDFzV1ONb6eWqlNNE47QgrSM5WbfZzcO5W3kDR44nRItt_hTpaQ=w409-h178" width="409" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Home perms were popular as well in my teenage years. Again the job of rolling the hair fell to Mum….end papers would be applied, foul smelling lotion would be applied and then you would wait for some time for it to take effect and the result would be curly until you had to wash it then it transformed into a mass of frizz.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">I had a friend in my teenage years who had long blonde hair. She was so lucky as she was able to use a mauve rinse called Magic Silver White to give her locks a mauve tint. Before we would go out on Saturday nights she would iron her hair so it would be straight. Hair Straighteners had not even been thought of back then.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Another friend tells the story of her mother using a solution of sugar and water when she was a little girl to keep her hair in place. This story always gives me a vision of flies and ants following her around as she went about her childhood activities.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is great times have changed in relation to these beauty routines but we have lost something in that we sometimes miss out on one-on-one mother/daughter bonding that was a part of these rituals.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 13px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-58437839033641138552022-10-02T19:27:00.001-07:002022-10-02T19:49:09.654-07:00<blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"> <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Earliest Memories</span></p></blockquote><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> Even though I longed to have a grandmother both my earliest memories involve my grandparents.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My grandfather (Dad’s father) lived in a flat on Beldford Street Broadmeadow. I remember, as a very young child, going to visit Pop there. As a little kid and as an adult I thought Pop was just a fabulous man. Maybe the activity on this day had something to do with it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On this particular day when we got Pop’s place he was having a cup of tea (made from a tea pot and almost the colour of tar.) He decided I needed a treat. I cannot say how old I was but I think maybe around three or four. I was small enough for Pop to pick me up and sit me on the sink in the kitchen. I can remember it was a cream enamel sink not the stainless steel type in homes of today. He then fed me on the most delicious fresh bread, cut really thickly and lathered with butter and golden syrup. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When we got home of course it was dinner time and I did not want any of my evening meal as I had eaten too much with Pop. Mum says Dad was in big trouble for allowing this to happen and for me missing out on my vegetables.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My other memory is more of a feeling than a recollection and it was only about 10 years ago that I learned the truth of what had happened</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The feeling was on of fear. I thought I was with my grandmother and the incident involved a tram. I was telling Mum about this memory of being fearful and the tram about 10 years ago and she told me about this incident thus solving the riddle of my memory.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mum told me that it was actually my great grandmother Sophie I was with and we were hit by a bus. I was about two and a half at the time.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Grandma was visiting her daughter Alma (my grandmother) in Baird Street. At the time Alma had advanced breast cancer and was extremely ill. Sophie asked Mum if she could take me to the corner shop with her. Mum said a definite no as she thought Sophie was too frail for such a responsibility. From what I have learned about my great grandmother Sophie over the years was that she was never one to be told no. So Grandma took me to the shop anyway. We had to cross busy Donald Street (long before the days of the overhead bridge but still a busy thoroughfare) As we were crossing the road we were hit by a bus. Mrs Parkin a neighbour who lived near the crossing came and told Mum what had happened.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Luckily we were not badly hurt. I think I escaped pretty much unscathed but grandma had some scrapes and bruises. Grandma's actions saved me from trauma as when we fell grandma held me in her arms and protected me with her body as the bus went over the top of us. Mum says that this perhaps saved my life. Mum none the less was very angry about what had happened. She said her displeasure with Grandma was like water of a duck’s back and her response was “well she wasn’t hurt I don't know why you are in such a state.”</span></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-70534388609239111822022-09-30T02:40:00.003-07:002022-09-30T02:40:57.642-07:00<p style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: large;">GRANDMOTHERS</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have been doing “grandmother duty” this week and it has not really been a duty but a great joy. Miss Sarah, our great granddaughter, has been having time with us. Her first sleepover with grandmother and poppy on her own. She has spent much of her time fishing with poppy, which poppy has enjoyed as much as Sarah. We have been shopping, out for morning tea, made a scrapbook of important people in her life, visited her great, great aunt and uncle and played with their dog and generally had a happy time together. It gave me cause to reflect on the role of grandmothers and how the role of grandmothers have changed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When I was growing up I was quite jealous of the kids I knew who had a grandmother in their lives. Dad’s mother died when he was 13 years old and Mum’s mother when I was just 4 years old. My great grandmother Sophie was around till I was 8 but she lived in Sydney and we were in Newcastle. I do have some memory of her but did not see her very often</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My cousin Anne had a grandmother, my cousin Glen had a grandmother and my friend two doors down the street had a grandmother. Oh, how I envied these kids the privilege.</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: large;">Grandmothers were a very different species sixty years ago. They all had white hair, or if they were really stylish, a blue rinse. Many had long hair fashioned into a bun. They always wore an apron when in the house and when they left the house in my experience it was never without a coat, hat and gloves. They always had their legs covered in thick stockings and often wore sensible shoes. When they were in the house the ones I knew at least were in control of domestic duties or were relegated to the role of “invalid”. But I so wanted a grandmother of my own. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjDDSXtkOSLlbzvXQR4LonLS_GBfqAQRYoox0A2uQZY4T_jU1KaCx-bxOvOcXSMj-w9Gz4JWICWslyxNo87YkJ3VFHCvBe3G1ewEnLgpjroY0volzeDUzA8Zn113A-ds2LtzepZ_UjEd97lBiGoVM9asBEbWqPCYes3rQD3-BVg-fwcH2eshtrH20HQ/s2048/stockings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjDDSXtkOSLlbzvXQR4LonLS_GBfqAQRYoox0A2uQZY4T_jU1KaCx-bxOvOcXSMj-w9Gz4JWICWslyxNo87YkJ3VFHCvBe3G1ewEnLgpjroY0volzeDUzA8Zn113A-ds2LtzepZ_UjEd97lBiGoVM9asBEbWqPCYes3rQD3-BVg-fwcH2eshtrH20HQ/s320/stockings.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have a picture of my Mum’s mother, who died when I was just four, at Mum and Dad’s wedding on my dressing table. She is dressed in a very sensible, what looks like a crepe suit, with a large hat and a very large corsage on her lapel, such was the fashion of the time. When I look at that photo I imagine, Alma would have been about 70 years old based on her appearance. However, when I examined it further I realised Alma would have been 47. My great grandmother Sophie would have been about 70 at the time of the event and I find her image hard to reconcile with my current age and appearance. </span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQg9cGDqxrFsP0svhebtxbtKtKMkpKUiJAKfVMBHLbb5Yr37kCR7uyC2kt1_RL3RL4qP9eIj2j8yz2thl2a39blOPJjXIIhso55yRRs_fpk1JSVCupoka77r2w173gRNqEsqyOJxigbVfkikZMHiRmrFaCVRVJaudpGs9bfdzlixKc0hwNHuVPrVqkNQ/s2048/alma%20and%20ernie.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> <span> </span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQg9cGDqxrFsP0svhebtxbtKtKMkpKUiJAKfVMBHLbb5Yr37kCR7uyC2kt1_RL3RL4qP9eIj2j8yz2thl2a39blOPJjXIIhso55yRRs_fpk1JSVCupoka77r2w173gRNqEsqyOJxigbVfkikZMHiRmrFaCVRVJaudpGs9bfdzlixKc0hwNHuVPrVqkNQ/w287-h259/alma%20and%20ernie.jpeg" width="287" /></a></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Being a grandmother has given me much joy over the last 25 years. I must admit when I was told I was to become a grandmother my first thought was that I was far too young. I soon moved passed this and with the birth of each of my eight children and two great grandchildren I have been knocked sideways by the love I immediately feel for each of them and ever so thankful for the joy they have bought to my life.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-9214435149963613882022-09-19T20:23:00.002-07:002022-09-19T20:23:42.913-07:00<p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia3ed98P92qRqO1iJcJSSXhMRmbHve8H2TuOcDuljtdh8w-HUMHdr7khotoToSJtOu0m88QAISOLWL0uVMvF6D5wyGzPUbem2w2zb0mJQ6Quqby3wibEVvSIHmmLrrbxZx4_1eVOFGEUvyXlS_IAMSOwEgoUZ6qyZPogfk4SRTFkKmPAbCYs0L9MiNew" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="458" data-original-width="344" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia3ed98P92qRqO1iJcJSSXhMRmbHve8H2TuOcDuljtdh8w-HUMHdr7khotoToSJtOu0m88QAISOLWL0uVMvF6D5wyGzPUbem2w2zb0mJQ6Quqby3wibEVvSIHmmLrrbxZx4_1eVOFGEUvyXlS_IAMSOwEgoUZ6qyZPogfk4SRTFkKmPAbCYs0L9MiNew" width="180" /></a></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When my Mum went into aged-care some 9 years ago, I was charged with responsibility of packing the house and her belongings. Tucked in a suitcase on the top of a wardrobe I found a dress which I immediately recognised as being of significant importance in my mother’s history. The photo is a picture of Mum in the dress.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As a child I can remember seeing this dress and its accessories and wishing I had an event in my life where I could parade in the costume. Even though I longed to try on the dress I was never given the opportunity. The dress always raised a feeling of happy, fascinating times. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The costume was made and utilised at the time Australia was experiencing the Great Depression and by the end of the decade would be at war with Germany. This period of Australian history was seen as a time of great hardship. With the unemployment rate of 40% many were affected. However, when I spoke to Mum about this she recants that “the depression” really did not have a huge impact on her family as her father retained his employment with the railways. Her family even managed to purchase a home during this time. Mum was an only child.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In the 1900s children were often involved in the activity of a Fancy-Dress Frolic. The children were outfitted in fancy dress and were taken to a school or church hall to “parade” before the nominated adult judges. The parents would pay a nominal entry fee, which was generally only a few-pence, making the event affordable for as many as possible. The Frolic was used as a fundraiser for different organisations. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In a big frolic there may have been several categories such as overall best senior and junior costume, best paper costume, best pair, best character costume, best national costume to name just a few. Prizes were awarded in each category and were perhaps a certificate, hair ribbons or a handkerchief, often donated by a member of the organising group. The parade of costumes was followed by games, songs and dancing for the children. From searching Trove, I have found that my maternal grandfather was often called upon to be Master of Ceremonies and my mother won many prizes and was an avid frolic attendee.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> Before Mum’s passing I was able to encourage her to tell me about the dress and its role in frolics. She recalls she won many prizes in her costume and said they were fun events. In researching the history of frolics, I also found reference to my father winning a prize in such an event. His costume “Wait here for Trams”. Unfortunately, this costume has not survived. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I had made the assumption that the costume had been made by my grandmother but Mum was able to tell me, quite indignantly, she had made the outfit herself. She said the accessories had been purchased by my grandmother. My mother had a successful career as a seamstress, when she left school, after studying pattern drafting and dressmaking and to quote her reminiscence “I could always sew." The costume was made, in her home, using as Singer treadle sewing machine. The skill exhibited in the construction of the dress is of a high quality leading to my assumption that it had been made by an adult.</span></p><div><br /></div>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-37441889667317071312022-09-18T21:18:00.002-07:002022-09-19T00:49:35.762-07:00<p> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: medium;">THOMAS AND BRIDGET JENNINGS</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thomas and Bridget (nee Conroy) JENNINGS<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>were born in ARBUT GALWAY Ireland and travelled to Australia arriving on 28 January 1864 as Assisted Immigrants on board the ship Siroco.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Thomas was 24 and Bridget was 22. The couple had married when Bridget was 16 and Thomas 20.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>With them on the journey were three of their sons - Jeremiah, (4) William (3) and John(7 months)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Thomas had a sister in the Colony who resided in Newcastle - Bridget.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It was Bridget who assisted the passage by sponsoring<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>the family to come to the colony. Bridget arrived in the Colony in 1855 aboard the HILTON.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>In 1860 she married Joseph TIERNAN (a sea captain)</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On the voyage of the Sirocca the ship’s captain was Lewis Arthur Berriman. The ship was 152 tons and sailed from Liverpool to Sydney.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>family would have made their way to Liverpool from Ireland in preparation for the voyage.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There were 31 married couples on board; 143 single males and 136 single females. 29 male children and 25 female children aged 9-12 and 10 infants.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">By 1865 convicts were not being transported to Australia so the colony was experiencing a labour shortage.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>There had been an influx of immigrants during the 1850s when gold had been discovered and the lure of making a fortune led to many making the decision to make the voyage to Australia. The journey to Australia was an arduous one taking up to four months or more. Because of poor hygiene and cramped living conditions the death rate was high.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>One in 10 adults and one in 5 children were known to perish.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Storms presented a particular problem and when the crew “battened down the hatches” it meant that the passengers were confined to their quarters.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>For those in cabins this was bad enough for those in steerage it would have been intolerable.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>They were confined to their quarters with all the other passengers, in total darkness,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>with no ventilation and limited toilet facilities.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Seasickness was rife at these times because of the boat pitching in the storm. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After a short period of quarantine the family would have been “released” into the care of Bridget Teirnan.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At this time it is understood that the family lived in Pitt Row in Newcastle with Bridget.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At some time later they moved to Adamstown.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thomas and Bridget went on to have a further four children when they arrived in Australia.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thomas was arrested and charged and sentenced to serve time (lengths of the sentence varied between one and seven days) at least 8 times between 1873 and 1893. He served his sentences in Maitland gaol. The gaol admission register state that he was 5ft 8ins, with dark hair and grey eyes.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His physique<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>is described as strong, and that he could read and write, his religion was Roman Catholic and he had various scars.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The records also state that both his little fingers had been amputated.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His occupations were variously listed as labourer, miner, stone breaker.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>It<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>appears that despite his convictions Thomas was always able to hold down a job.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>One of his arrest that I find particularly interesting and coincidental was on 16 January 1900 Thomas was arrested for of wantonly throwing stones to the danger of people passing by on Broadmeadow Road, Hamilton.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>When he appeared in court he stated that larrikins were throwing stones at him so he had cause to retaliate.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Witnesses however saw no larrikins interfering with the accused.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Thomas was fined 5 shillings or in default 24 hours gaol.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>The interesting coincidence in this story is that the arresting officer, Constable Mullane, is the great, great grandfather of my friend Catherine.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In April 1895 Thomas was employed as a stone breaker and on his way to work at Hexham he was knocked down and gored by a bull.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He managed to startle the bull after it had attacked him a couple of times by taking his tea bottle from his back and striking the bull.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>He wandered around in a semiconscious state until he was picked up by a milkman who took him home to Adamstown where he was put to bed and attended by the doctor.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bridget Jennings died on 24 October 1908 and is buried at Sandgate Cemetery. Her obituary published in the Newcastle Herald states she was 71 years of age and that she was a well respected member of the community.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Her death certificate states her cause of death was senilis.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Her address is given as Popran Road Adamstown, her occupation is listed as domestic duties, and her parents as William Conney and Mary Mahon.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thomas Jennings died on 22 January 1917 and is buried at Sandgate with Bridget.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>His obituary states that he was 81 years of age and until recently he could hold his own in a days work with the best of men.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>At the time of his death it is reported he leaves four sons (John had passed away by this time) 29 grandchildren and 35 great grandchildren.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>Mr M Jennings is reported to have said the large attendance at his funeral was testament to the respect his father was held in the community.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thomas and Bridget’s five surviving sons all made valuable contributions to life in Australia and I will provide further information about this in future posts</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="t1" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><tbody><tr><td class="td1" style="background-color: #b0b3b2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">NAME</span></b></p></td><td class="td2" style="background-color: #b0b3b2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">DOB</span></b></p></td><td class="td1" style="background-color: #b0b3b2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">MARRIAGE</span></b></p></td><td class="td1" style="background-color: #b0b3b2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">DOD</span></b></p></td><td class="td2" style="background-color: #b0b3b2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">COMMENTS</span></b></p></td></tr><tr><td class="td3" style="background-color: #d4d4d4; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 47px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">JEREMIAH</span></b></p></td><td class="td4" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 47px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1859</span></p></td><td class="td5" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 47px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">HAMILTON: Elizabeth M <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>1877</span></p></td><td class="td5" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 47px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1944</span></p></td><td class="td4" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 47px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">served as a counsellor and Lord mayor of Adamstown</span></p></td></tr><tr><td class="td6" style="background-color: #d4d4d4; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 35px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">WILLIAM</span></b></p></td><td class="td7" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 35px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1860</span></p></td><td class="td8" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 35px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">DONNERLY, Elizabeth <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>1881</span></p></td><td class="td8" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 35px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1931</span></p></td><td class="td7" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 35px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">on the board of Kurri Kurri Hospital for many years</span></p></td></tr><tr><td class="td9" style="background-color: #d4d4d4; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 59px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">JOHN</span></b></p></td><td class="td10" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 59px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1863</span></p></td><td class="td11" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 59px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">HICKENS; Casina E <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>1889</span></p></td><td class="td11" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 59px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1911</span></p></td><td class="td10" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 59px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">curator of the Sydney Cricket Ground predeceased his father</span></p></td></tr><tr><td class="td12" style="background-color: #d4d4d4; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">THOMAS</span></b></p></td><td class="td13" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1865</span></p></td><td class="td14" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p4" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p></td><td class="td14" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1866</span></p></td><td class="td13" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p4" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p></td></tr><tr><td class="td15" style="background-color: #d4d4d4; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">PATRICK</span></b></p></td><td class="td16" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1867</span></p></td><td class="td17" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">McNamarra, Annie 1892</span></p></td><td class="td17" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1940</span></p></td><td class="td16" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">active in mining circles</span></p></td></tr><tr><td class="td12" style="background-color: #d4d4d4; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">MARY</span></b></p></td><td class="td13" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1869</span></p></td><td class="td14" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p4" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p></td><td class="td14" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1869</span></p></td><td class="td13" style="background-color: #f2f2f2; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 14px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p4" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p></td></tr><tr><td class="td15" style="background-color: #d4d4d4; border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">MICHAEL</span></b></p></td><td class="td16" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1870</span></p></td><td class="td17" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">MURPHY: Ellen 1892</span></p></td><td class="td17" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 87px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1943</span></p></td><td class="td16" style="border-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); border-style: solid; border-width: 1px; height: 23px; padding: 4px; width: 88px;" valign="top"><p class="p3" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 10px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;">active in mining circles</span></p></td></tr></tbody></table>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-743264092392010473.post-10585919072925980412022-09-16T20:17:00.000-07:002022-09-16T20:17:49.549-07:00<p style="text-align: center;"> HOUSE OF LOST VINTAGE</p><p><br /></p><p>My name is Anne Gleeson and I live with my husband of 52 years in beautiful Lake Macquarie. We are the parents of 3 daughters and a son. We have 8 grandchildren and 2 great grandchildren. My husband and I are both retirees and enjoy life at home on our two acres of paradise. </p><p> </p><p>I enjoy writing and have recorded lots of stories about my own life. During the pandemic “stay at home” I commenced writing the stories of my ancestors. I recently attended some sessions which were part of the History Illuminated program by Lake Macquarie Council. In session facilitated by Jill Ball – GeniAus (<a href="http://geniaus.blogspot.com">http://geniaus.blogspot.com</a>) - on blogging my plan to start this new blog was born. </p><p><br /></p><p>I have chosen the name the House of Lost Vintage because my husband jokingly referred to our house on day the Vintage House. Over the last 20 years I have collected a large array of items connected to women’s social history and the lost arts in which our female ancestors participated with such a high degree of skill.</p><p><br /></p><p>Through the blog I will be sharing Family History stories and events, childhood memories, information about pieces in my collection and stories about life events. </p><p><br /></p><p>Cheers</p><p>Anne</p><p><br /></p>annehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00816572499658221665noreply@blogger.com0