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daily parcels * tied up in string *

daily musings of a vintage addict * I am totally obsessed with all things vintage * trying to keep up with my past...and sometimes ordinary everyday life

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Location: Katoomba, NSW, Australia

here I am in a little cottage that evokes the energies of my ancestral lands - a cottage on the moors of Cornwall, or on the cliff tops of Ireland or Scotland. It has a hearth. I am a hedge witch {of sorts}. I wear upcycled clothes, patchouli oil and Redback boots. I am a gypsy; an eccentric and a mystic [I often live with a foot in two worlds]. I serve my guests, tea from an old silver teapot. I love Vervain, yarrow, chamomile & mint. Star watcher and Moon gazer. story cloth weaver. keeper of family dreams and wishes. good friend and creator of life. herbal tea drinker and potion maker.

Plan ahead and dream of all the beautiful things that life has to offer

October 09, 2005

memories are made of this ~ looking back

isn't it great to visit old haunts every now and then * like a step back in time * memories rushing past, as you see homes where you lived, schools that you attended and all those other places that you have memories of.

we did that yesterday - my family have their own cemetery - well it was, back in the late 1800's, but has now been taken over by the local council due to historical value. You have to be related to my dad's family to be buried there. I love old cemeteries * the gorgeous statues & headstones * the fences around the graves and the lovely decorations that are found on some - shells, vases and lovely old china flowers.

we decided to have lunch at the reception venue yesterday and while we were sitting there chatting away, I realized that we were just around the corner from the cemetery & thought while I was there, I would go visit my dad and grandparents.

It has certainly changed, where there was an old rickety post & rail fence built by my grandpa, there now stands a concrete replica, which just doesn't quite have the same quaintness as the original. And the catholics are on the inside of the fence now !! - I can remember as a child seeing about 4 graves outside the boundary fence and my mum would say to me, in a hushed voice ~ 'they are the catholics'. Of course ,I had no idea what 'catholics' were at the age of 4. I have since converted to catholocism, much to my grandma's disgust, I am sure, as I was told that she would 'turn in her grave'. Isn't it wonderful though, that this bridge has been crossed and all denominations are now happily 'residing side by side' within the boundary. I laugh now at the catholic/anglican thing that I grew up with but I guess that is how people were, back then.

I found my dad's grave - he has been put with my grandpa - and I remembered vividly the day he died, it was mothers day. I can remember the week before too, as on the Friday, I had to do meals on wheels and he wanted to come with me. But me, being impatient, said no. And I will never, ever forget that, as it was only two days after that he died and I will always feel that I didnt have time for him.

Don't get me wrong - he came to my place nearly everyday for a cup of tea and company but this day, I just didnt want him with me as I was bothered about stuff and yes, annoyed that I would have to listen to him for hours.
I miss him so much, dreadfully at times and yes, I love my dad !!!! but I am sure everyone who reads this, understands how parents can sometimes bother us. I know I bother my children lots but they still love me......my mum bothers me dreadfully sometimes, to the point of pulling my hair out but I adore her, love her so much !!!!

anyhow, after that long drawn out story - we continued driving * over the river on the punt * down to the town where I grew up and I pointed out my grandparents home and the mulberry tree we use to climb to get the most amazing mulberries * where I went to Sunday school * my primary school * where my friends lived ( amazingly gorgeous houses now) * where we had bonfire nights and my uncles orange orchard. Where my dad would go to get fruit and vegies to transport to the Sydney markets and then bring bags of fresh sweet corn home for us........ ahh memories - that is what vintage life is made of !!!!


Blogger Alice said...

What a wonderful day you had, and thank you for sharing it. So many memories. It's fortunate that so many places you remember are still there to see; many things seem to change so quickly now. I've often wondered what it would be like to live one's entire life in one area, like my brother who has lived on the same farm for the past 59 years, from the age of 7. I'm sure you have lots of stories to tell, and it's important to pass them on, either verbally or in writing, to the next generation. They may not be interested at the moment, but they will be later on.

7:50 am  
Blogger Amy said...

I understand what you mean exactly! What a beautiful place to visit though, so peaceful and quiet and great memories of your dad and other family members.

7:54 am  
Blogger Maggie Ann said...

I think all memories are bittersweet. They are precious and all add up to 'love' in the end. I enjoy old cemeteries too. The art on the headstones can be quite lovely. Some even have rare bits of rhyme. Dear Robyn...its the greatest comfort and hope to my heart that there are 'differences' to what we believe and that Biblical truth holds the key to heaven for us. Satan wants us to think all roads lead to heaven....but the Bible tells a different story. much love to you...Maggie Ann

1:29 pm  

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