Conversion update

Progress is good on the derelict cowshed conversion on the farm.

In the last couple of years my son, Danny and his wife, Heather have renovated one of the farm houses and somewhere along the line during that process came up with the idea of converting an old derelict dairy shed into a modern home.  The concrete floor of the shed and surrounding yards were already there, as was the roof.  They have maintained the original footprint.

The shed had been condemned as a milking shed before the farm was purchased.  I'd say one of the reasons would have been it was too close to a waterway.  As far as we were concerned it was just something that was there, beside the creek, beside the paths the cows sometimes follow to and from the shed, beside the track we use to visit the lake.  

The cartoon characters were on of the milk room wall of the original shed so they have framed them to make them a feature of the new build.

I took the following photos about this time of year, after a lot of rain, a few years ago.  The first is taken from the road. 

This one shows a bit more clearly the roofline and you can just make out the cartoon characters. 

Their approach to building was not exactly orthodox.  They went to Auckland and bought a number of doors and windows from a demolition warehouse, including a couple of lovely leadlights, then designed a house to fit around them.

The bathroom is in the area where the milk vat used to stand.

 Bathroom windows

From the kitchen, lounge and main bedroom you will be able to see the cows pass by on their way to be milked.

 

It's a work in progress but is definitely taking shape.  I don't think they have come up with a plan yet about what to do with the curved fence of the yards.

The first thing to be built inside was the kitchen bench.  They decided to hold a "walls are up" party.  As the roof was already there they couldn't do a roof shout.  That seems to be a dying tradition these days but somewhere in ancient housebuilding folklore, it is written that the homeowners must supply a shedload of beer, chips and cake to thank the builders for their hard work once the roof has gone on a new build.  Not really appropriate in this case as the builders were themselves and one builder at the weekends.

Anyway, the party date was set, friends invited.  Then they realized they didn't have anywhere to put food and drinks so Heather knocked up a kitchen bench over the original herringbone pit of the shed.  Here seems the appropriate place to add Heather is more the builder than Danny but they are equally creative and neither of them ever walk away from a challenge.  The wagon wheel was added later.

We've had a crazy amount of rain lately and the road to the farm is in a hell of a state.  I'll wait till it dries out a bit before visiting again.

My blondes

My GeorgiePie is home from university on holidays.  I swear she is lovelier than ever although I do acknowledge that my grandmotherly eyes can be a bit biased.

Here are my granddaughter and great-granddaughter when we were enjoying a family night out together a couple of nights after I returned home.

Neither of them co-operate like they used to for the camera.  

The next day little Lexis came to play with me for a few hours.  She still chooses the same same things for dress-ups that she did when she was a toddler.  That hat is a long time favourite.  

Best shot

Don't get me wrong.  I like dogs, there have been dogs in my life that I have loved.

This one, unfortunately, has not been one of them.  Maybe our relationship was too short and I would have grown to love him in time.  Who knows?

That's why I think it is so ironic that the best photo I took while on holiday was of this dog.   To be fair, it is one of the few photos that I took with my camera and not on the phone.

His name is Smokey and apparently he's a very special Miniature Schnauzer from Memphis, Tennessee.  My niece brought him back to Australia with the rest of the family after they had been living in the States for a couple of years.  By the end of the year he will be relocating with the family to Switzerland.  I daresay his behaviour won't improve after that trip.

Schnauzers are said to be intelligent, affectionate, extroverted, humourous and have a personality that's twice as big as their bodies.   Having spent a few days with Smokey, I agree with all that.  I think the trouble could be he is a lot more intelligent than the family give him credit for and he is ruling the roost without anyone suspecting it and he knows he can do exactly what he pleases when he pleases.

Two more old houses

Further to yesterday's old homes here is the home where my paternal grandmother spent the rest of her life after leaving the farm "Up the Creek".  I was out one day sight seeing with my brother and neither of us could remember where the house was when we came to a roundabout not knowing exactly where we were, when I shouted to go back the way we had come but go past the road we had just driven along and turn down the next one.  And sure enough, just down that road a little was Grandma Ward's home, we both recognised it immediately.  I was so proud of myself!

And here is the home where we moved to when I was five years old, where my mother and father raised their 12 children.  Doesn't look big enough, does it?  The girl who grew up two doors up the road and was my youngest sister's best mate during their childhood bought the home and opened up the front and side verandahs which my father had closed in to make more bedrooms.  This home isn't as old as the others but is a year or two older than me so it's close to 80 years old.

Ward pudding

Marie has been my dear friend since we started school together aged 5.  Gee, that was over 70 years ago.  And then add a couple more.  Never mind.  

We must be doing OK as we can both remember that.  And oh so many other times that we have shared.

Always when we are together the memories and laughter flow.  We had such a great childhood.  In all those years we only ever had one argument.  Neither of us can remember what it was about, why we walked home from school on opposite sides of the road.  However, when we reached the point where we parted we sat down on the footpath and chatted for so long I remember getting a telling off from my mother for being so late home from school.

We went to see the Elvis movie together just as we first saw "Love me Tender" and "Jailhouse Rock" together. Our time together is always too brief.

We might be getting on a bit but her mother's and her Aunty Rene's collection of cookbooks had us feeling young by comparison.  

  

And look, Adrian, we have a place in history.  Not that I'm in any hurry to try it.

 

 

 

Up the Creek

No trip home is complete for me without a trip "Up the Creek" to where my ancestors settled and many previous generations of my family (on both sides) settled and lived.  I'm proud of the fact that my ancestors were the first white settlers at the top of this lovely, fertile valley. The road up the Laidley Creek valley follows the creek to where the road ends as it reaches the mountains and that's where I think of as my spiritual home.

This is the one place where "You can't go home again" is not true.  Thanks, Taken for Granted for the quote.  The few changes that have taken place over the years have been small and not changed the essence of the place.

The area my grandfather nicknamed Cottonbush Avenue has been named Crosby Park by the Council after my grandmother's family.  Believe me, it is as much a park as it is an avenue, perhaps Grandad was not the only one with a sense of humour. 

My sister Clare and my late sister, Esme's husband, Bill wander along the bank of the creek at Crosby Park.

There never were swimming holes in this part of the creek but it was terrific for all ages to play in the water, where the youngest to the oldest could cool off on hot summer days.  Bill still comes camping here with his son and grandsons.

My great grandmother's home has had a facelift since I was last home and there is a tree where there didn't use to be one, and a new fence, too but to me it is the same.  

The roof and verandah of my paternal grandmother's house, where I spent the first five years of my life, was shrouded in some sort of wrapping.  Looks like it, too, is getting a facelift.

What never changes is the topography.  Once I see Mt Castle sitting at the top of the valley, I know I'm nearly home.

 

 

 

It's not the old Gold Coast

I know what the  Gold Coast is famous for - surf breaks, stunning beaches, theme parks, shopping, nightlife and its hinterland.  I was there, part of it all in the sixties, before the theme parks and the many  shopping opportunities came along and when there weren't so many choices for nightlife.  Ahh, the fun we had!  It now makes me sad to see what has become of it.  I'm out of step with the times, I know, but given the choice of looking at trees or looking at high rises I'd take the trees any time.  My phone doesn't do them justice.

On my holiday home I enjoyed a few days down the Gold Coast with my sister, Tricia at the home of her daughter who was vacationing in the USA.  The home sits on the banks of the Nerang River on the other side to many high rises, a great spot for watching the river traffic, the ferry boats and whale watching tour boats coming and going during the day.  And very pretty night lights.

One day when the weather was far from ideal we took a drive to the hinterland to visit the Hinze Dam, the potable water supply for the region.

Another day we visited the HOTA art gallery which, apart from housing some very interesting artworks, also offered excellent views of Surfers Paradise. 

I'm a pretty hopeless tourist but I did get one shot of Southport beach.  That's the shark watch drone landing spot.  From memory I think it was roughly opposite the Surf Lifesaving Club, the exterior of which remains exactly the same.   You can't say that about many places on the Gold Coach!

It's close to this beautiful sculpture known as Melody which was created by Frank Miles, a unique Australian artist specializing in Bronze Sculpture.

I don't recall ever going near the Southport Broadwater in my youth.  If there wasn't surf it didn't interest me.  I'm pretty sure there wasn't a paved walkway there back in the day.  But it's a very pleasant place to take a walk now.  And the estuary looks like a good spot to catch a fish.

A gathering in a rainforest

My sister Clare is the one who finds lovely accommodation places to  gather our siblings together each mid-winter.  After a Covid enforced absence I was there this year at Sweetwater Cottages in the rainforest at Maleny.  

I know from visits to Maleny in the dim and distant past that the drive there is picturesque with dairy farms interspersed with the rainforests but rain put a stop to any sightseeing.

We had a wonderful time, four brothers and four sisters, a husband and a couple of wives, probably all talking at once.

Danny, Denis and Terry

Brother Bernie was also there but not when the photo was taken.

The location was beautiful, secluded and peaceful.  Most of us went for a nature walk to a waterfall.  Some, like me, turned back when we saw how steep the path was and we all ended up with leeches.  Ewww, not nice, I'd forgotten about them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The two photos above are from Sweetwater Cottages website 

My apologies for the all over the place photos.  Darned if I know how to fix it.

Trains and planes

There were no boats on my just finished holiday to Oz but there was an unexpected train ride, my first on the all electric Queensland Rail tilt train.  That was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, whizzing along at, I believe, speeds of up to 170km hour, very quiet and smooth. 

 

The on-board service was as good as on any airline and pulling into stations was smoother than the landing on my return Air NZ flight to Auckland that's for sure. It was lovely spending a couple of nights with my brother who lives in Bundaberg and his wife.  I'd got it into my head that he wasn't as well as he'd said when I'd seen him briefly the previous weekend.  It seems I was wrong and he is fine. 

It's never a hardship spending time in Bundaberg with its rich farmland and temperate climate which is rated the most equable of any Australian town or city and ranked 5th on a worldwide comparison.

The day we drove a few minutes to the beach for lunch there were so many people dining out we gave up and went back into the city. 

We had lunch at the RSL (Returned Soldiers League) on the river with the blinds half down to keep the sun out of our eyes.  Can't complain about that in the middle of winter!  As you can see most of the diners were enjoying eating at the beach.

 

 

 

 

The art gallery for no reason other than it's one of my favourite older buildings in the town.