Chapter 24 - Mud Pies

Kneading the dough on the rough hewn table Elizabeth’s thoughts were wool gathering. The summer heat was gathering intensity and she felt in her bones the knowledge of another hot season around the corner. 

A multitude of thoughts rambled around in her head while she kneaded.  Will I ever get used to this heat? It is so different now that Thomas is a Captain. The grants of land seem to be coming at a great rate. Thomas is obsessed with the idea of being a Land Owner and why shouldn’t he be? He is a good farmer. I just wish he had more time for us. But who am I kidding, I am lucky to have him, a roof over me head, freedom and me babes. 

I just wish he wasn’t so all fired up about Governor Hunter still. I don't know what he has against him. I guess he still remembers what it was like when Major Grose was in charge and looked after the officers so well turning a blind eye to the rum trade. I suppose it is not unusual after the history that Thomas and Major Grose have after being on the Pitt together. 

I don’t think Hunter does himself any favours though trying to clean up the Rum trade, but he isn't strong enough to stand up to the soldiers. If only they could see the good Hunter is doing by encouraging exploration of land further out. Surely that is what we need to get over those mountains. Why I hear the other day that there are close on 2900 people here now.  

Pulling all these thoughts back to the present she found herself being squeezed in an enormous hug by Thomas as he planted a kiss on the back of her neck. 

“Elizabeth, have you seen what these rascals are up to? Come, have a look.” 

She quickly dusted her hands on her apron and followed him outside into the bright December morning. 

“What on earth…” she stammered, “where did.. Oh my!” 

“Yes I thought you might have something to say about this,” sniggered Thomas from behind his hand, trying not to show how far his grin travelled across his face. 

“Isabella, Tommy just what have you to say for yourselves?” she tried to ask sternly. 

A very muddy four year old Isabella and an equally dirty two year old Tommy looked up from the once white sheet that they were sitting on, surrounded by half a dozen what looked like mud pies. 

“Mumma want, come to a tea party, we has lots of figgy pudding…” Isabella started to ask. 

“OH I WANTS SOME BIGGY PUDDING, OH I WANTS SOME BIGGY PUDD…” sang Thomas at the top of his voice.

“No Tommy you not singing it proper, it’s give me some figgy pudding, OH GIVE ME SOME FIGGY PUDDING..AND BRING IT RIGHT HERE..” 

“But I wants biggy pudding,” wailed Master Thomas. 

Giving up on trying to look stern, Elizabeth grabbed Thomas and joined their children on her previously clean sheet sighing with contentment at her many blessings. 

With Christmas and the New Year just around the corner maybe it was time they started a new tradition for a new country. Mud pie picnics, maybe? 

Lifting her skirts and finding a relatively clean part of the sheet to sit on, she pondered where have the children learnt a Christmas Carol? The convict woman who came in to help around the farm often sings, maybe that explains it. 

I wish I could give them a few little presents for Christmas, but Thomas thinks it a waste of money. I don't remember getting presents when I was a little 'un. I guess he is right though, they are really too little to know what Christmas means. Even if they do know a Christmas Carol!  

“Can Papa and I have a cup of tea with our Figgy Pudding,” smiling she handed an imaginary cup to Isabella while accepting a handful of brown mud from Tommy.

Chapter 25 - Christmas

Humming to herself while hanging another load of washing on the line, Elizabeth was pleased to see the mud had eventually come out of the sheet. 

Hearing whistling from the front of the house she quickly brushed her hair behind her ears, noticing the sweat gathering around her temples. Oh well, he has seen me looking worse, dabbing her forehead with her apron as she rushed to meet him. 

“Whatever have you got there Thomas?” 

“Well my dear, I have been given extra rations for Christmas? What say you, do you think you could make something special for Christmas dinner?”

Peering into the sack he carried Elizabeth’s could barely contain her excitement, “I have never seen some of these things before, but I sure will try, once I find out what they are! I can ask Mrs Perry down the way, she is a great cook. Oh this will be so much fun.” 

The next few days were a buzz of activity. Elizabeth washed and polished every surface. She asked Mrs Perry around for a cup of tea and picked her brain about what was in the box and how to cook it. 

We are going to have a Christmas. I hope I can do this, I want to make this a great time for us all. 

Christmas morning dawned bright, sunny and hot. Elizabeth was up early getting the fire stoked and dinner in her oven, while the household slept. She had a special surprise for the children, boiling away in the big pot on the stove. 

“Elizabeth what are you doing?” Thomas asked rubbing sleep from his eyes, as he walked into the room. 

“Well Christmas dinner won’t cook itself, will it?” snuggling closer to him as his all encompassing arms wrapped around her. It is far to hot already for this, but she accepted the kiss he was keen to give her. 

“Mumma, Papa whats you doing?” they heard as two little pairs of feet padded across the room.  

Releasing her Thomas scooped Tommy up in his arms and motioned for Isabella to follow him. 

“Let’s take your Mumma out of this hot room for a while.” 

Elizabeth’s protests of how much she had to do, were drowned out amongst the shrieks of the children. My goodness these two can shriek, I’m glad we have no close neighbours. 

Elizabeth and the children were greeted by a very unusual sight when they exited the door. 

“Oh my… 

“Ook Mumma…” Tommy screamed. 

“Why does that tree have things on it…” Isabella asked? 

                        …whatever have you been doing Thomas?” 

Turning back towards the door, Elizabeth couldn’t contain her laughter, when she saw Thomas with a sheepish grin looking at her. 

“Well I thought it was high time we started some family traditions. Do you like them?” 

Elizabeth walked over to what looked like a branch from a native tree stuck into a water pale. Tied to it’s spindly branches were some red and green bows. It still had some dried brown blossoms attached. A reminder of the glorious spring when the yellow blooms were in full colour.  Also hanging from the branches were little berries of dubious vintage.  

“It is beautiful! When did all this happen?” 

“You weren’t the only one up early, you know. I climbed out the window and got it all done in no time.” 

“Papa, can we touch it, can we please?” Isabella cried. 

“Well little one I don’t know if it will hold up to being handled. So how about we sit in the sun and open presents, hey?” 

Elizabeth stared at Thomas in surprise, “Presents?” 

“Yes presents! Now sit down and wait your turn.” 

She soon found herself with two little ones on her lap, while Thomas strode into the house with purpose, soon returning with his hands behind his back. 

“Now who wants a present?” 

The children sprang up, tripping over each other in their excitement. 

“Me, me.” 

Handing each child a roughly wrapped object, in what looked like a piece of cloth, he bade them to sit down while they open them. 

“Now Elizabeth, did you think I would forget you?” 

A present for me? Yes if I am honest, I never expected a present, not after all your talking about it being a waste of money. 

“Really Thomas. A present? What happened to it being a waste of money?” 

Smiling he handed her a small package. It is cloth, and it will make a lovely pillow, she thought as she unwrapped it. 

“Oh Thomas, it is beautiful. I have never had my own looking glass before. And all this cloth, I can make so many lovely things with it. Thank you.”  

Seeing the children about to throw their packaging on the ground unwanted, she grabbed it before it was trodden under foot. She wasn’t about to let it be wasted.

“What have you got there?” 

Sitting back down, the children showed her their presents. Isabella had two small wooden teacups and Tommy had six wooden blocks. She raised an eyebrow while looking back at Thomas. 

“The nights were quiet on duty last month, I thought I would try my hand at whittling. At least we will have something real to drink out of at the next tea party we are invited to. The ribbons on the tree are for you and Isabella too.” 

With tears in her eyes, she turned toward the house, “ I had better tend to the food or we won’t be having any Christmas dinner today, at all!” 

Smiling later at the happy faces of her family around the table, she asked, “Does anyone have room for Figgy Pudding?”

Chapter 26 - John

Elizabeth found herself settling into motherhood. She revelled in her role as caregiver to her two young children. She enjoyed the role of homemaker. Thomas was keen for her to make their house a home. 

I never seem to know where the days go. The seasons seem to go so fast, the children grow like weeds in this country. I suppose the freedom they have helps. 

Sitting in the late evening sun watching the children play in the garden, one April evening she found herself dry retching. Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised it definitely isn’t the dried pork we didn’t have for lunch, she thought wryly to herself, making her way inside looking for a biscuit to settle her stomach. 

Another babe! At least I know that Thomas will welcome him or her with love, as will I. I guess we can expect to meet this one around the end of November. I wonder what we should expect? Either way, this babe will be loved, just as much as the other two. 

Month followed month, with very little change in routine. Elizabeth kept house and watched as Thomas seemed to be driving himself into the ground. It doesn't seem to be enough  being a Captain of the NSW Corps, he is obsessed with acquiring land and farming. 

Elizabeth felt the weight of the pregnancy with each passing day, she felt bigger each time. Struggling for breath near her time she had a nagging fear that something was wrong. 

“Tommy, Issy come inside and have a bite to eat,” standing in the doorway she scanned the yard for the children. “Where are you two scallywags?” 

Now where could they be? I haven’t got the energy for this. Just wait til I find them! 

As the sun was started to lower in the east Elizabeth caught her breathe as a searing pain grabbed at her belly. 

“Oh no, not now, I can’t do this now, Tommy, Issy come inside NOW! Hrrmmph, mmmnn, no Lors, not now.” 

Elizabeth made her way inside, with fear gripping her belly as well as the pains of labour.  

Oh my, these pains are so close, I don’t remember them coming so quickly before. Grabbing hold of the bedpost she screamed in agony and fear. There was no-one around to hear and the children hadn’t appeared either. No help from them, I can’t even send them for help. 

I guess I am on me own, I wish Thomas wasn’t at the barracks, he will probably go to the farm before he comes home as well. Where are those blasted children?

All to soon Elizabeth did’t have time to worry about the children’s where abouts. Things were moving rapidly and she had to concentrate on the business at hand whether she had help or not. 

“Breathe they say, yeah, breathe…oohh, no, eeerummp! Oh it’s coming’ it’s coming..ahhh!” 

“Mumma, what’s wrong, Mumma where are you?” Issy was calling from outside. 

“Issy, quickly take Tommy and go get Mumma help from someone, the baby’s here and Mumma needs help,” she strained to catch her breath. 

Elizabeth rested back on the pillows on her bed with her new son cradled in her arms. Exhaustion overtook her and she faded in and out of sleep with him nursing at her breast. 

“Elizabeth, Elizabeth are you oka…,” Thomas’s words were abruptly halted as he rushed into the room and he saw her on the bed. 

“Well my love you look as though you have had a trying day, what needs to be done?” he asked as he rolled up his sleeves to help with the rest of the birth and cleanup. 

Issy and Tommy had run to the barracks, but had met their father half way on his way home to check on Elizabeth.  

“I don’t know what made me start out to come home, I just had this feeling that you needed me. The Governor isn’t going to be too pleased, but I will cope with that later,” as he tied off the cord, he held out his arms to take his new son. 

“Well my man, you have made an eventful day of it, haven’t you? I think your Mumma will remember the 28 November 1797 for more than just you.⁠[1]  You must have given her quite the scare, having to do it all herself. But just as well she is such a strong woman, hey John Rowley?” 

Smiling at the scene before her, Elizabeth asked, “So we have a John, do we?”

________

1 Registry of Birth, Deaths and Marriages, NSW John Selwin, #492/1797 V17974924, https://familyhistory.bdm.nsw.gov.au/lifelink/familyhistory/search/result?30, accessed 15 April 2015

#52ANCESTORS WEEK 24 - FATHER'S DAY

Father's Day
We covered Mother's Day in May and now it's Dad's turn. Which forefather will you highlight this week?


Obviously here in Australia we don’t celebrate Father’s Day until September but I will still follow this prompt. So this week I am highlighting Fathers. Admittedly it is strictly not Family History yet, but it will be one day!

 I am very lucky to be married to a wonderful man who is also a wonderful father. He took to fatherhood like a duck to water, so the saying goes. It may sound corny but it is true. 

Together we have raised three sons and a daughter. He has always had my back during the difficult days and nights of parenting. He has always shared the ups and downs, the tears and laughter, the triumphs and disappointments. 

But most importantly he has always been there. 

He has walked many a floor trying to get babies to sleep, changed nappies, done the washing, cooked meals and whatever else was needed at any given time.  He has read stories, heard tables and spelling words.  

He coached soccer, basketball and cricket teams. He stood on the sidelines of Netball games. He drove endless kilometres to sporting games, with our children and picked up other children along the way for their games. 

He served on numerous school and sporting committees. He barbecued, sold raffle tickets, decorated halls, ran fundraising events.  

He sat through endless piano, violin, recorder, clarinet and guitar concerts. These would often be of a weekend when a favourite team was playing footie on the TV! But he chose to be there. 

We are now retired and have the privilege of watching our three sons on their journey through fatherhood and our daughter grow into a caring confidant woman. I see many of the qualities of their father in our children.  

I rejoice in watching our sons “father” their children. Our beautiful grandchildren. 

I know the old saying “learn by example” rings true in many areas of life, but especially in raising our strong and caring sons and daughter.

#52ANCESTORS WEEK 23 - GOING TO THE CHAPEL

Week 23: Going to the Chapel

Maybe "going to the chapel" makes you think of weddings. Perhaps you have a member of the clergy in your family tree. Is there a particular church that features prominently? Chapel or Church as a surname?



"Going the Chapel….and we’re….." 

My Great Grandparents, Alfred Ludwig Brandt and Louisa Barker were married at the Chalmers Manse of the Church of Scotland in Launceston on 10th January 1883.⁠[1] 

This church is still standing today although it is no longer used as a church. On a recent visit to Tasmania, I was able to view and take photos of it. It is sadly in need of restoration but the current owners are unable to finish it.

The Church as it was in 2017 ( my photo)

Current Owners 2017 (my photo)

I have written on this blog previously a creative non fiction story on Louisa. I still have much to research on this couple, but for now I will outline this particular couple’s “Going to the Chapel” story. 

Alfred and Louisa became parents to their first born Alfred Lewis Brandt in Tasmania in 1870.[⁠2] 

They migrated north in the next year to Gulgong where they had another three sons, Magnus, Peter and John in the next five years.⁠[3] 

They continued further north after this and settled in the town of Gunnedah, New South Wales. It was in this town that the rest of their children, two boys, George and William and a girl Ethel were born between the years of 1878-1882.⁠[4] 

So have you twigged to the “Elephant in the Room” yet? 

These seven children were all born out of wedlock! Look again. Alfred and Louisa were married in 1883, some thirteen years after their first born and about three months after their last child. 

My Great Grandparents did indeed “Go to the Chapal”. They did indeed “get married”! 

But why did they wait thirteen years? 

I doubt I will ever be able to answer this question with any degree of certainty!
_______

1 Marriage Record of Alfred Brandt and Louisa Barker, #RGD37/1/42no685, https://linctas.ent.sirsidynix.net.au/client/en_AU/names/search/detailnonmodal/ent:$002f$002fNAME_INDEXES$002f0$002fNAME_INDEXES:894563/one

2 Australia, Birth Index, 1788-1922 Index Reg #44 Alfred L BRANDT [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2010, http://www.ancestry.com.au,  accessed 12 August 2015 

3 Australia, Birth Index, 1788-1922 Index Reg #135592 Magnus BRANDT, Index Reg #14877 Peter BRANDT; Index Reg #15707 John BRANDT; [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2010 http://www.ancestry.com.au accessed 12 August 2015 

4 Australia, Birth Index, 1788-1922 Index Reg #22850 George BRANDT; Index Reg #25169 William BRANDT; Index Reg #17610 Ethel BRANDT; [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2010 http://www.ancestry.com.au accessed 12 August 2015 

#52 ANCESTORS WEEK 22 - SO FAR AWAY

So Far Away

We're changing things up a bit for Week 22 with the theme "So Far Away." It's a pretty vague theme, to be sure. You could write about an ancestor who is from someplace far away from where you live. You could explore an ancestor who migrated far during his or her lifetime. You could tell about a research experience in a distant library or archive. I'm curious to see what everyone comes up with!


The distance between my home town of Goulburn New South Wales and Launceston, Tasmania is approximately 1223 kilometres. Not really very far by standards of how far some of my ancestors travelled to new worlds. 

But my take on the Weekly prompt “So Far Away” is about this distance. 

In December 2017 I was in Launceston Tasmania, for my Graduation in my Diploma of Family History. 

I have an ancestor Alfred Ludwig Brandt who was a miner in Tasmania in the late 1860’s. So a trip to the local library of Launceston saw me scrolling through a microfiche for the birth records of my ancestor’s son Alfred Lewis Brandt, who was born in 1870.⁠[1] 

I hoped that by finding the Baptismal record that was on the Tasmanian website LINC I would gain some information as to the whereabouts of his parents residence, at this time. 

Any Family Historian will tell you about the mind numbing experience of scrolling through page after page of microfiche. But I was rewarded for my patience and was able to take a photo of my find!

Photo of Microfiche 

This page has the residence as “Quadrant”. No house number, no street…. Just Quadrant !!! Very helpful…NOT. 

I quizzed the local librarian and he knew of an area down the road known as the Quadrant Mall. Obviously this could be the place. But it was not much to go on. 

Nether-the-less, my sister and I went for a walk around this Mall while in the area. One never knows, I might find more about this elusive family eventually in my search and I can then say I walked the ground where they lived. 

While in Tasmania my husband and I also did quite a few kilometres looking for mines that Alfred may have been involved in. Unluckily for us these mines are no longer in existence. But many kilometres and some very interesting scenery was enjoyed. Such is the life of a Family Historian. 

But for now this Alfred is a little “less far away”. Did I mention that he came from Sweden? Now that will be another story of “so far away”. I haven’t as yet proved his birth in Sweden or found out how he got to Australia, I think he either swam or came in a row boat. He just appears in Tasmania in the 1860's.

One day I will find out and that is the excitement of research. You never know what is around the corner, one day you may be "so far away' only to find the next you are "very close" to something exciting.

_________

1 http://www.ancestry.com.au Australia, Birth Index, 1788-1922 Index Reg #44 Alfred L BRANDT [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations, Inc., 2010 accessed 12 August 2015

#52ANCESTOR CHALLENGE WEEK 21 - MILITARY

The Week 21 theme is "Military." Memorial Day is coming up in the US, so this makes a perfect time to write about someone in the family tree who served in the military. Another way to approach this would be to write about someone who didn't serve (but should have) or how a war affected an ancestor's life. 

As I am in Australia I am choosing to post this on the Anniversary of one of my Ancestors. 

Private Peter Brandt is remembered on the Menin Gate Memorial, along with 54,000 others with no known grave.⁠[1] 

Somewhere on the fields in Belgium, Peter and his fellow soldiers are together, as they fought! 

Peter is my Great Uncle who fought in World War 1.

He was “killed in action” on the 10th June 1917.⁠[2] 

I have written about Peter elsewhere in this blog (Utas Essays). So this post will be a pictorial, in memory of his sacrifice.

Memorial at AUSTRALIAN WAR MEMORIAL, CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA.

MEMORIAL AT MENIN GATE

ENTRANCE TO MENIN GATE

__________

1 Commonwealth War Graves Commission, Cemetery Details-Ypres (Menin Gate) Memorial, http://www.cwgc.org/find-a-cemetery/cemetery Accessed 20 March 2017

2 Service Record of Peter Brandt, B2455, p. 12, National Archives of Australia

#52 ANCESTORS WEEK 20 - ANOTHER LANGUAGE

The Week 20 theme is "Another Language." You could write about an ancestor who spoke a different language than you do. You could highlight the first time that you had to work with a record in another language. Maybe there's an epitaph on an ancestor's tombstone that's written in a different language. Is there an ancestor who spoke more than one language?


I thought I would have the usual trouble with this prompt and have to ponder hard about what to write. 

But the prompt jumped out at me as soon as I saw it. 

Another Language for me is easy. For me DNA is another language. 

Deoxyribonucleic acid, nucleotides, Mutations, Chromosome, Haplogroup, mitochondrial DNA, autosomal DNA….The list goes on! 

IT IS A CROSSWORD PUZZLE OF A GREAT MAGNITUDE TO SOLVE.  

But it is one that I hope to master with practice. 

????????DNA Crossword??????????

#52 ANCESTORS WEEK 19 - MOTHER'S DAY

Week 19: Mother's Day
Mother's Day was recently celebrated in the US and Australia in May. For this prompt It seemed like a good time to take a look at a mother in the family tree. After all, half of our ancestors were mothers! You could highlight your mother or one of the other mums in your family's history. 

Mother’s Day

Ruby Florence Briggs was born on 18 September 1917, the second daughter to Samuel Stanley and Florence May Briggs.⁠[1] 

Ruby was born in the suburb of Newtown, her eldest brother had died in a car accident two years previous. Her sister Vera was 6 years old and her brother Colin was 5 years old. 

Ruby was my mother, she died on 4th April, 1996.[⁠2] Mum lived with my family for many of her later years before moving into a small unit in the same town until her death.

My Mother was a very private woman. She rarely spoke to me of her past or family. She instilled in me a sense of family though. 

She always seemed to be making something. With four daughters she sewed clothes for us all. I remember overcoats that would have challenged a professional taylor! 

I remember dolls clothes that magically appeared at the mention of wanting a new outfit for one of them. 

Mum made all of her four daughters wedding dresses as well as the bridesmaid dresses of the accompanying sisters. When one of my bridesmaids married a couple of years after me and her wedding dressmaker let her down, Mum remade her wedding dress for her at the last minute. She looked beautiful and had a dress that actually fitted her on the day. 

I have fond memories of outfits being sewn for me to wear on special occasions. One in particular was made for a party where “Pajama” wear was required. As I was seventeen at the time, I wanted something pretty that I could also wear out in public. Mum produced the most beautiful flannelette “evening style” nightie. I remember it to this day, the flounces, the lace, but most of all the orange floral flannelette! I thought I was just the “bees knees”! 

A lot of our soft furnishings and furniture was either made or recovered or upholstered by Mum. She couldn’t leave a window un-curtained or a bed free of bedspread! To this day when I am at my sewing machine or with needle in hand I can feel her presence, guiding my stitches. Unfortunately she doesn't stop me making mistakes, because this is how we learn, but I know she feels my pain when I reach for the seam ripper to unpick a mistake!

Mum loved the act of giving. The more presents at Birthday and Christmas time the better. When in later years she no longer sewed I can remember every Christmas being encouraged to buy a new dress “her shout”! 

Like a lot of people I have many memories of my Mum and I am thankful for all of them.

________

1 Birth Certificate Transcription of Ruby Florence Briggs, 18 September 1917, NSW Birth Registration Transcription, #1917/27569

2 Personal Memory of Marcia Moon

#52 ANCESTORS WEEK 18 - CLOSE UP

The prompt for Week 18 is "Close Up." 

Some possible ways to interpret the prompt:

an ancestor who lived closed to where you live now or where you grew up;

an ancestor that you have a portrait of;

an ancestor who you have more information about and you feel like you know them "close up."

Remember — there's no right or wrong way to approach any of the prompts!




I once again had to ponder hard and long for what to write for this prompt.

I have a couple of photos in my possession of Garvice Galvin Brandt, so I decided that I will pen a few words on him. Although there is a lot that I have found that I don’t know about him, as he is my father I have decided that I would indulge myself with a few personal memories of the man I called Dad.

Garvice was born on 16th April 1914 a son to George and Isabella and a brother to Valma and Lorna.⁠[1]

He was born into the WWI era of uncertainty, in a little town in New South Wales, called Gunnedah. His father was a ganger on the railway.

After the war I have found evidence of this little family in Wyong, New South Wales, in 1923. Why they moved there is uncertain. I found an article online through the wonderful Trove website, reporting on the activities of the children and their mother participating in the local Church fete.⁠[2]  I have posted previously elsewhere on this blog a short creative non-fiction story about this event.(St Cecelia's Bazaar - Flash Story)  

I then tracked my Dad’s family through Ancestry, via the Electoral Rolls, finding they eventually settled in Thornleigh New South Wales.[⁠3]  I presume that Garvice had a relatively uneventful childhood. But alas as was the custom of my family, my parents did not share stories about their life and so I have no stories of their early life. 

It has been passed down that Garvice succumbed to Tuberculosis in his early twenties and spent some time in a sanatorium called Bodington.⁠[4]  

Sometime around this time he met my mother Ruby Florence Briggs and they married in June 1941.[5] 

Four children were welcomed by my parents, my three elder sisters and myself.

I also remember my Dad being sick in my early childhood when I was about nine years of age. I can remember him in hospital in Manly for many months. I was not allowed to visit him, but I was taken to the window outside the hospital where I could wave to him. I remember this time vividly, with a sense of dread as I did not know what was really happening. It wasn’t until much later that I found out that he had been treated for TB again. When he came home he was frail and very thin. 

Dad was a Smallgoods Salesman. He sold smallgoods to various corner stores and butchers. It was through this trade that he acquired his lack of enthusiasm for cheaper cuts of meat! But he sold knobs of devon, strassberg etc. without any hesitation. But I remember there was always a big leg of ham at Christmas time! 

Dad was a man of faith. 

As I was seven years younger than my closest sister, it meant that I was the last one to leave home and I spent most of my teenage years with just my parents. Although we weren’t well off, I never remember wanting for anything or at least anything that I needed! Through all the times of sickness and uncertainty he still managed to provide for his family. How I am not sure, as he would not have had any savings or health insurance! 

I remember he and I leaving early in the mornings for the drive to his work and my school. As we moved regularly with rental accommodation, we often were not close to my school. We would set off in the smallgoods van and talk all the way. I missed these times when it was no longer possible for me to travel with him and I had to use public transport. 

I have fond memories of a teenage birthday sleepover, with about six girlfriends. We were going to the movies in the city in the afternoon. Once dressed in all our finery Dad loaded us into the back of the smallgoods van and drove us to George Street in the middle of Sydney. There were no seats or windows in the back of the van, we just stood up and held on! At least, being the weekend, it had been washed and we didn’t share the journey with knobs of meat, thank heaven! He drove back after the movie and picked us up. It must have been a funny sight for the busy metropolis crowd, to see us pile back into the van, that Saturday afternoon in the 1970’s! 

But I thought he was just wonderful and he was! 

He was my Dad!
______

1 Birth Certificate Transcription of Garvice Galvin Brandt, 16 April 1914, NSW Birth Registration Transcription, #1914/19533

2 Wyong (1923, September 6). Freeman's Journal (Sydney, NSW : 1850 - 1932), p. 19. Retrieved May 7, 2018, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article116797727

3 Ancestry.com. Sands Directories: Sydney and New South Wales, Australia, 1858-1933 [database on-line]. Provo, UT, USA: Ancestry.com Operations Inc, 2010. This collection was indexed by Ancestry World Archives Project contributors.

4 http://www.environment.nsw.gov.au/heritageapp/ViewHeritageItemDetails.aspx?ID=1170826, Bodington Hospital, accessed 4 June 2018.

5 Marriage Certificate Transcription of Garvice Galvin Brandt and Ruby Florence Briggs, 14 June 1941, NSW Marriage Registration Transcription, # 1941/14530

#52 ANCESTORS WEEK 17 - CEMETERY

This week’s prompt is cemetery. Our Co-Ordinator wrote the following….going to a cemetery is one of my favourite things to do. Cemetery visiting has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I was little, we would take a day trip to where different relatives were buried; sometimes, we'd even have a little picnic there. (It wasn't until I was older that I realised that not everyone did that!)

Do you have a favourite tombstone of one of your ancestors? Maybe you could share how you found where an ancestor is buried or a clue that you got from a tombstone or cemetery records.

Cemetery

I can’t ever remember visiting a cemetery when I was young.

I guess I was a deprived child! 

My experience of cemeteries when I grew up, were of places of sadness. I went there to bury a loved one. I didn’t realised until much later that there is a wealth of information to be found in them. 

My Family History journey began later in my life once I was retired. It was then that I felt this great need to know about my ancestors. 

It wasn’t until two years ago that I went on my first cemetery visit, without attending a funeral first. 

I was studying a Diploma of Family History with the Tasmanian University. My husband and I were going on a holiday to see sisters in a different state. I checked my research and low and behold… some of the towns we were travelling through had ancestors buried in them. 

So with my trusty list we stopped on the way and had our first Cemetery Discovery Experience. The first one proved to be a disappointment as the ancestor I was looking for, either never had a headstone or it was long gone.  

The next town cemetery took some finding. But we eventually succeeded and I took photos of four of the headstones we discovered. These were not of anyone I had as yet researched, but were collateral relatives in a line that is on my back burner for now. But when their time comes I will have photos of their graves, if nothing else! 

After the above trip I created a database of “Possible Cemeteries to visit.” As I research and find death certificates, I now add the burial place to my database. So now when travelling I can do a search by town and if I have someone buried there, we can have a Cemetery Experience.

#52 ANCESTORS WEEK 16 - STORMS

This week’s prompt was Storms. We were asked if we have an ancestor who survived a storm (or didn't)? Did they fight a storm, literal or figurative? Is there one with a weather-related name?

My writing this week has a definite twist and very broad interpretation of the prompt. But it was just what I felt like doing at the time!

Elizabeth Selwyn’s Storm

     Sentenced for stealing


               Travelled far from home


                         O’er the seas


                                   Rowley provided her shelter


                                            Motherhood saved her


                                                      Stormy weather no more!

28 DAY CHALLENGE CHAPTER 23 - Guilt and Promotion

Hurrying home after visiting the barracks to obtain their monthly stores allocation, Elizabeth shivered as the bitter wind swept her along.

Why do I feel guilty? Why am I so fortunate? I was just a convict like these other poor souls. Here I am being protected by one of the same as most of me fellow convicts regard as the enemy. The NSW Rum Corps!

If it hadn’t been for the administration of Grose and Paterson in these past couple of years, Thomas and the other soldiers would not have been so lucky with all the land grants. They just think of this place as a penal settlement, not a place for free settlers. The trade of rum has grown during the time of the NSW Rum Corps and they are now firmly set in their ways.⁠[1] But at least Thomas sees that there is a future here, a future for our younguns’.

“Elizabeth, where have you been?” Thomas scowled as she heaved the parcels on the table. “The children have been awake for at least an hour and I think Thomas needs changing.” 

“Well, I guess I had better change him then, sorry I lost track of time and found myself wandering the long way home.” 

“Hrrump! Well I have to go into work, a message just came from the barracks, that weasel Hunter wants to see me.” 

I wish he wouldn’t call the Governor names. He isn’t that bad. He doesn’t have what it takes to control the Corps though. Everyone can see they are just too strong for him and will continue doing things their way. He has a vision though, he knows there is land worth looking for and exploring, if he lasts long enough here though. I don’t think he is going to be getting a very favourable report back in England.[⁠2]

“Well me wee baby Thomas, you do smell awful. No wonder your Papa wanted to get to work so quickly. I wonder what the Governor wants of him, though? Let’s get you changed quickly and go outside to play with Issy, shall we?” 

Later that evening Elizabeth heard Thomas long before he got to their house. Doesn’t sound like anything bad happened today, by the sound of his singing!

Standing in the doorway with his quirky grin splitting his face from ear to ear, she noticed the different embellishment on his shoulders. 

“For Lors sakes Thomas shut the door! It’s cold or hadn’t you noticed? Thomas, what are they?” 

“Well me dear, do you mean these things on me shoulders? You may now call me Captain Thomas Rowley,” sweeping her up into his arms and swinging her around the room, “where’s the rum, we have some celebrating to do.”⁠[3]

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1 The History of Sydney, Early Colonial Sydney 1790-1809, http://www.visitsydneyaustralia.com.au/history-6-early-col.html

2 The History of Sydney, Early Colonial Sydney 1790-1809, http://www.visitsydneyaustralia.com.au/history-6-early-col.html 

3 B. H. Fletcher, 'Rowley, Thomas (1747–1806)', Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/rowley-thomas-2614/text3605, published first in hardcopy 1967, accessed online 3 February 2018.