Thursday, March 22, 2007

I believe in yesterday

Like I've said before, "Nostalgia aint what it used to be"
Unlike the "Genealogy Gene' which seems to kick in at about 60 years of age, the "Nostalgia Gene" seems to be active in all people over the age of about 20.
It seems strange to hear people laughing about the nineties, what they did and what they wore, while to me it seems like just yesterday.
Have you stopped to consider that how you wear your hair (I,m not speaking to the people with very little), or what you are wearing will be viewed with great hilarity by a future generation, or possibly even by your own good self in days to come?
As far back as I can remember there has always been a yesterday,and even more startling is the fact that it is always "NOW"? This can be a scary thought because the future is always unknown. It might be even scarier if it was known!!
Life seems a little like a video tape, just rolling on. There are a couple of big differences , with life there is no pause button, there is no fast forward button, nor is there a replay button. The remarkable thing is that we all have memories of the past, fading though they may be.
You may well be asking yourselves, "What has set him off on this"?
Well, on the first day of March I was able to pay a visit to the heritage Park at Moe Victoria. I had driven past on countless occasions thinking, "I must go in there one day". On this day my number one son, Mark had an engagement at Moe so I went along for the ride and got off at the Heritage Park.
There were several pluses, It was a free ride, it was inexpensive to enter and buy food, the people there were very nice "country people", the museum was great and so was Mark's company.
Why do country people in general seem so much nicer than their city cousins?
I have put a few pictures on here with some comments

There is an old song we used to sing, "The wheel of the wagon is broken, and it aint gunna turn no more" This is certainly true of this one. My Grandfather's brother set off for Queensland with his horses and wagon transporting something or other. When he returned home his wagon wheels were worn out, which probably took the gloss off any profit made.

This was the nearest thing to the buggy we went to school in, but ours wasn't quite so fancy. In the early days, being the youngest, my seat was in that back bit.

This class room catered for grades one to eight in the one room. The Quambatook Sate School, being a much bigger school, had grades five to eight in the one room.
The ink wells were place one in the centre and the other on the right hand side. Students who showed a propensity for left handedness were dissuaded from showing such a propensity. If that failed as it probably always did, they must have sat on the right hand side of the desk, as there were two students to each desk. When the teacher really wanted to punish me and make me feel great shame, she would place me alongside a girl. shudder!



The "Smithy" (Black Smith Shop) smelt just like our one and countless others.
All sorts of tongs, hand turned drills, dirt floor. Every small town had a Black Smith Shop, and any farm worth it's salt.

There were quite a few "Period Phones" on display. This was the model we had. We were on a party line, a line of three in our case. Each had it's distinctive series of rings. Our number was Quambatook 25S, so the Morse code for "S" which is Dot Dot Dot was three short rings repeated a few times. The news starved farmer's wives would sometimes very very quietly lift the phone on another call and listen in!

These are different petrol bowsers, not all outside one garage of course. The petrol, or Gasoline, was hand pumped up to the marks on the glass bowl, and then siphoned into the tank of the car, or truck, or Motor Bike

The old "Sand Stones" were rarely as round as they were when new. It usually meant that one person turned the wheel and poured on a bit of water while the other did the "grinding" with the job going in and out as did the wheel circumference!


The old "Furphy" water tank has become famous. A descendant of Mr. Furphy used to take us boys on outings sometimes. We would go off with the warnings of our Aunty Lil ringing in our ears, "Watch him"!
Well, I guess that's enough "nostalgia" to last you for some time, but like Arny, "Ill be back"

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Far Side of the World


This is port Arthur Tasmania. Always infamous but even more so in recent years because a man with a gun shot lots of people indiscriminately, 35 actually ,for which he, Martyn Bryant, received 35 life sentences without parole in the Risdon prison.
Perhaps it might have been apt to put him away in one of the dark cells at Port Arthur itself!
Britain had sent some 50,000 convicts to the Americas up till the war of Independence took precedence. Convicts were then sent over a period of time to Australia and van Demen's Land (Tasmania). They did tbis because their jails were overflowing. Tasmania received about 75,000 such, sounds like a lot!
All of the Holts made the claim that they came a "Paying Passengers" although I do see one Holt on the list, a female, for stealing a few Lbs of cheese.
If every one in Australia was locked up, that the general public seems to think should be, we might have to transport a few. The UK might be high on the list of preferences.

An early explorer (sailor) said that he saw giant trees which must have been there since the beginning of time. This particular tree has the first branch at about 36 metres up the trunk, the tree went a long way higher than that, approaching 100 metres.
There are not only high trees in Tasmania but also old sheds. This one has to be right up there


All in all Bruny Island would be a great place to drop out, but be warned, a lot of Ozzies are already there grabbing the prime spots, but it may not be yet, too late!
Here is one of the edges of Bruny Islands many many kilometers of coast line, there are many more spectacular than this but I thought this bit fascinating.
In case you are wondering where to find such a place, it is on the southern tip of Australia




(At the bottom of Tasmania)