friends · nostalgia · old house · son

Revisiting Homes of the Past

Side Veranda

During my recent visit to the Blue Mountains, the area in which I spent my earliest years, I paid a visit to a number of homes throughout the area that had played a significant role in my childhood days.

At one of the homes I found more than I had bargained for, as the home had a huge “AUCTION” sign attached to the front fence.

This home had belonged to the family of my best friend in fourth grade, Christine. Standing outside of the front gate of the house, after all of these years, the memories of childhood playtime came flooding back.

Christine’s house had seemed very old when I was a child; now the old house sat among the uncared for gardens looking for all the world as it had the last time I had played there, baring the neglect.

A quick visit to the real estate agent confirmed the house was vacant and I was given permission to explore the property.

Thirteen year old Adam (who accompanied me on the trip) was a tad wary of the old home, proclaiming it to be “spooky”. I assured him that the home was indeed old, although one of the friendliest homes you could ever wish for. No bad vibes at this property!

Adam and I, with my trusty camera in hand, explored the front back and both sides of the garden, which to my amazement looked almost exactly as I remembered it.

Had anyone cared for this home at all since Christine’s family had moved away, I wondered?

Stairs to the Back Door

The rickety old stairs, leading up to the back door looked the same. The wide verandas around three sides of the home, where Christine and I would play together on rainy days hadn’t changed a bit.

Would you use this tub?

Underneath the back of the house we located an old laundry room, complete with cement wash tub.

Potting Shed

To the right hand side of the house I was delighted to find a lovely little building, which I imagine would have been a potting shed in its day. Funny, I didn’t remember the little shed, although perhaps it had been off-limits to us children, or overgrown with vines, which had recently been cleared away, no doubt in an effort to spruce up the property for its sale.

Too Spooky!

By the time the potting shed discovery was made, Adam had begun to ask if we could leave. The potting shed really gave him the spooks! But I loved it!

Lucky horseshoes in the potting shed

With a bit of encouragement I convinced Adam that it was completely safe to go onto the verandas to peer inside the windows, just to get a glimpse of the rooms with the high ceilings, fireplaces and wooden floors that I remembered.

And what exactly did we see through the windows?

That’s another story….for tomorrow. 🙂

Changes · nostalgia · son

The Long and Winding Road ~ An Adult Perspective

This morning, before he went to school, I took thirteen year old Adam, (um…fourteen before the month ends!) to the dentist.

He was just a tad overdue for a visit and well, yes, he has grown a lot this year, in fact he is now taller than I am. As we walked up the stairs out the front of the dental surgery, Adam commented, “these stairs used to be so much bigger!”

Isn’t it funny how we have a different perspective on the size of our familiar surroundings as we grow up?

A couple of months ago I took a long overdue trip back to my hometown, revisiting the once familiar surroundings of my childhood.

Since returning home I have realised that it will take me quite some time to get my head around my trip. It was certainly a wanted trip. I would even go as far as calling it a needed trip. And while I am progressively sorting out the events of my time back in my hometown in my own mind, there’s one thing I’m certain of….everything seems a whole lot bigger when we’re small!

A perfect example of this fact would be a road that I travelled along on countless occasions as a child. The road went on, and on, and on….

Not only was the road long, it was (and still is) a winding road. Some of the sharp bends in the road take you around a full one hundred and eighty degrees!

Realising that my child’s perspective differed greatly from my adult perspective on a number of occasions, I needed photographic evidence that my winding road was indeed as winding as my child’s mind remembered it, hence the above photo, taken by Adam from the passenger seat of my car, as we approached one of the extreme bends.

And as for the length of the “long and winding road that went on and on and on”? I would estimate the bendy section would last for a maximum of maybe two kilometres. The whole road itself, from the entry of the road and ending at my old home, is seven kilometres, a far cry from what I thought was around twenty kilometres!

Taking a journey back in time can be a real eye-opener!

 

nostalgia

Weekly Photo Challenge ~ One

Last weeks WordPress Photo Challenge theme was “One”. Yes, I know, I’m late, but I really wanted to share a photo and a short story….

Sitting silently alone, in the midst of…well…nothing, I spotted this old park bench.

I visited an old park just recently, during a visit back to my old home town (which I have yet to tell you all about!)

Way back in time, at the very young age of only nine years old (wow, that sounds so long ago!) I enjoyed playing in this park, which was just across the road from the home we lived in.

It was a rented property and we only lived there for a couple of months, whilst our new home was being built, but the memories of this home have lived on, so many years later.

My hours spent playing in the park with friends were definitely a highlight of this time.

The park has been renewed over the years and certainly isn’t the same as when I played there as a child. But it is still a park. With one very old bench, sitting near the fence.

I could never know for sure, but I do believe that perhaps this is the old bench that lived in this same park, way back when….

There is no way of knowing for sure if it’s the same bench, but I like to think that maybe it is. Just maybe, something of my old park still remains today.

 

Australia · friends · Mount Warning · spiritual · Tweed Valley

Mesmerising Mount Warning

View of Mount Warning across the Tweed River

QuinnCreative and I have engaged in a comment chat recently, discussing the spiritual nature of the area around Tucson, Arizona.

Time stands still for me when reading Quinn’s stories. My son nearly missed the school bus a couple of mornings ago, as I had become so enthralled in reading Quinn’s blog posts!

When Quinn made mention of the Australian Aborigines in her post “Dreaming Your Life Awake”, I simply had to mention my Magical Mountain, which I admire daily from the back of my home.

The Aboriginal name for my Magical Mountain is “Wollumbin”. The European name, given to the mountain by Captain James Cook in 1770 is “Mount Warning”.

Looking across sugar cane fields

Regular visitors will no doubt remember my waxing lyrical over the mountain on many occasions. I find myself staring at the mountain regularly, in an almost hypnotic state.

The closer I drive towards the mountain, the stronger I feel the “pull” towards it, as the folds within the rocky face of the mountain and the gigantic trees become clearer and clearer.

The “feel” of Mount Warning is both hypnotic and tranquil. I’m sure that the spirits of the local Aboriginals smile upon those who admire their “Wollumbin”.

Mount Warning from Lyon's Lookout, Murwillumbah

Quinn asked for a list of posts I have written on Mount Warning. I discovered five posts in total, although two of those posts are mostly about landmarks in my area, named by Captain James Cook.

Here’s a list of links to the five posts ~

Thank you, Quinn, for giving me the opportunity to show off the beautiful area where I live yet again. I constantly complain about the humidity during the summer months ( sorry, patient readers!) but apart from the heat, we really do have the most magical scenery.

There are quite a few links here to explore, so grab a cuppa, sit back, relax, and explore a part of my world!

 

 

son · summer

Salad by Candlelight

Salad by Candlelight

7.30 pm, Monday night ~ As I hand write by candlelight at my kitchen table, I feel inclined to use a fountain pen, if only I had one!

Outside the window next to me is a glimmer of lightness, enough to assist the candle in providing me with the light I need to see the whiteness of my sheet of paper clearly.

Only a matter of a few weeks ago we lost power for a number of hours. This time around, the candles we had rummaged through the cupboards in search of back then were close at hand.

How different daily life would have been, pre-electricity days. For one thing, meals would have had to be prepared earlier than they are in my house!

When we lost power tonight I made a dash for the kitchen and began poking around in the dark vegetable crisper in the bottom of the fridge, hoping the salad vegetables would be easily located in the dim light.

Taking photos was a matter of “point the camera and hope for the best”! The salad appeared to be quite presentable, having been prepared with more “feel” than sight, with the assistance of my now well-used candles.

8 pm ~ With the power restored rather fast tonight, much to the relief of Adam, who found it necessary to resort to playing computer games, rather than talking with his friends on Skype, I felt a tinge of sadness.

Without electricity, the house was silent, all but for the sounds of the family’s voices, as we talked amongst ourselves.

No television, no chance of the phone ringing, just writing with my pen and paper.

And salad by candlelight.

Computer Games