Tag: memories

Australia · gratitude · music · nostalgia · old house · son · spiritual

Capturing the Moment

JoanneLeave a comment
Home for this eight legged fellow.

“Know the true value of time; snatch, seize, and enjoy every moment of it. No idleness, no delay, no procrastination; never put off till tomorrow what you can do today.”~Lord Chesterfield.

The above quote sums up an important lesson I have learned during 2011.

Web of diamonds and pearls.

With my camera at the ready, as I see a magical moment unfolding, I photograph it. It’s no use in thinking we can go back to the moment later. If we fail to seize the moment, it will be lost to us, forever.

During the year I have captured many moments in time with my camera. We are fortunate enough to live in a generation when we can click away to our hearts content, transfer the photos to our computer and edit later. No more messy and expensive film processing for us!

Most of my captured moments didn’t make it to my blog page, for no other reason than there were so many of them! What better time to share some of my year as it draws to a close.

Memories of my childhood home.

 

During my visit to the Blue Mountains in April this year with my youngest son, I captured days which will live in my heart forever. There are those who say you can’t return to your past. Well, I didn’t do that; I re-discovered my past surroundings, through the eyes of an adult. The home where I grew up is obviously loved by its present owner, with both the building and garden being well maintained.

A Generation Later

Watching my son ride his skate-board along the same street where I had played as a child was one of those special moments, in need of capturing in the instant of the time.

School Days

My old school, the one where I began kindergarten at the age of four, seemed to me to be captured in a time-warp. A well maintained time-warp I might add!

Echo Point, Katoomba.

The award for the most surreal moment of the year, when time literally stood still for me, happened when my boy and I visited the Three Sisters in the Blue Mountains. As we headed towards the lookout, the sounds of a didgeridoo echoed throughout the expanse of the valley. If you are not familiar with the sound, I have found a sample on You Tube, which you can listen to here…

The man responsible for the Magical Sounds kindly allowed me to photograph him, then complimented my son on his choice of cap he was wearing, a glossy, purple, checkered number he had found a few days earlier!

Making memories with loved ones is really something special; seizing the moment and recognising it for what it is embeds the moment in your heart.

Treasuring the moment, and moving right along in the direction of the next memory is absolutely priceless.

Mum · nostalgia · pies · traditions

Traditions. And Mince Pies, Just Like Mum Used to Make.

Joanne2 Comments
Christmas Wreath

“‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,    Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”~ Clement Clark Moore.

As I hung the Christmas wreath on my front door this year, I tallied up the number of years I have done so. This will be our seventeenth Christmas in our home and we have continued our families Christmas traditions throughout the years.

Some may find family traditions boring; I find them comforting and familiar and I look forward to repeating our old traditions each year and adding new ideas into our mix of celebrations when the fancy hits us.

One tradition that my mother repeated annually was to make her famous and much-loved-by-her-family Mince Pies every year.

I have continued making mince pies myself every Christmas myself, although I have always made the pastry using butter; Mum used lard.

This year I opted for a change and made my mince pies “justa lika Mumma use to make”, (as they say in the spaghetti sauce advert, however, my Mum wasn’t Italian, so perhaps that line isn’t appropriately used in this case!)

My Mum was a Cheshire born girl, with a Manchester born Mum whose entire family were Yorkshire born and bred. Mum’s very broad northern English accent was hard to understand at times (even for me, her own daughter!) I’m uncertain whether it is my maternal families trait, or a Yorkshire family trait, to religiously follow family traditions the way we do. Either way, it’s traditional, so we do it!

Being true to old tradition, this year I made my mince pies using lard, just as Mum always had. It’s such a simple recipe – 2 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon of salt, 125 grams (4 oz) lard and 1/4 pint of water.

Mince Pies

In previous years I have been known to make my own fruit mince, (Mum called it “mince meat”) although this year, as time did not permit, I bought a very reliable, traditionally English brand of mince, which is almost a good as home-made.

There’s nothing like a mince pie made with pastry using lard to bring back memories of Christmases long gone, but not forgotten. And the best part of it all is that the new (old) version of lard pastry seems to be a hit with my family too!

Christmas Eve

Now, with food for tomorrow prepared, kitchen tidied, decorations hung and everyone in bed, in the words of Clement Clark Moore, I will bid you a “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”

father · friends · music · old house · piano · spiritual · vision

Revisiting Ghosts of the Past

Joanne2 Comments
The Old Home
“The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts”. ~ Italo Calvino

When I had the chance to wander freely around the home and garden of one of my best friends from my childhood, I did not want to miss the chance to take photos, lots of photos. Who knew when I would have an opportunity like this again, if ever?

It surprised me just how many features of this old house, built in 1915, had remained with me for all of these years, and upon seeing them again were just how my memory had remembered them. Now, I wouldn’t have to leave my memories to chance, I would have photographs to remind me.

As we didn’t have access to the inside of the house (yes, we checked every door!), my photos were taken mostly through both windows and flyscreens, so please excuse the poor quality of most of them. You will, however, be able to make out some of the features, such as the old fireplaces and wooden floors.

Neglected Features

It was an absolute stroke of luck when I aimed my camera at one of the windows to take an inside photo, when I happened to notice I had a “person” also in my photo. Can you see them, on the left hand side this shot?

Ghostly Image?

The light of the day shone at just the right angle to pick up Adam’s reflection in the glass. With all of his worries about the old house being spooky, he got a kick out of seeing his own “ghostly” image in one of the photos!

Back in the days when this old home had been loved and cared for by my friend’s family, there had been a lovely old piano in one of the rooms. I had asked my friend’s father during one of my visits if I could “play” the piano. I explained to him that I didn’t really mean I could play the piano, I just liked mucking around on them, because I loved them so much.

He asked if I would like to learn a tune. Of course, I said yes!

During each of my visits from then on, we would have a “lesson”, and true to his word he taught me how to play my first tune on the piano.

My own children have heard this story for years and I have taught each of them how to play my song. To this day, that tune is the only one I can play, although I have an old piano of my own and two of my children can play, one of them being Adam. I wish I could tell you what the tune is called, but I haven’t got a clue!

Of course, I had told Adam that this was thee house where I had learned how to “play piano”, showing him exactly where it had been in the house back then.

With the old house now being unoccupied the rooms were bare, so you can imagine my doubt when Adam went ahead of me, peered through a window, and announced, “Mum, here’s your piano”!

Ghosts of the Past

How could that be? What were the odds, that within this old empty home, the one piece of furniture remaining would be a piano?

Can you see it there, all alone against the wall?

Who knows whether it was “my” original piano or not, but it was indeed a piano!

Maybe Adam was right, maybe the home and garden did have spooks in it. But one thing I know without a shadow of a doubt, I wasn’t afraid, just filled with the joy of revisiting my old memories and resurrecting some ghosts of the past.

“Apparitions are often confused with hauntings. The difference is that apparitions are “live” (intelligent consciousness) and hauntings are “recordings.” ~ Loyd Auerbach


 

friends · nostalgia · old house · son

Revisiting Homes of the Past

Joanne6 Comments
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

Joanne2 Comments

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!