A Special Museum Visit.

An auspicious day, not only Australia Day. A day to look up the
ancestors.

Although beginning with a soft grey drizzle, not terribly inspiring, a
decision was made, with the 'Clothes Encounters' exhibition at the
Powerhouse Museum, finishing in a number of days - a city visit.

Quite cool for a few days now, welcome relief from the endless heat
and humidity we have had recently. A train ride in, and then a stroll to
the museum, quite manageable under the current conditions.

My great Grandmother's wedding dress on display, as part of significant
era fashions in Australia's social history.

In fact, her dress is right at the beginning of the show, and includes text,
and photos of her and the groom, my Great Grandfather looking raffish
and quite a dandy, with his waistcoat and fobwatch. his hair seems to
have a mind of it's own, she looks a little startled.

Between them they had 10 children, one died, and one extra was adopted.
My maternal grandmother was the baby, the dress passed to her.

My mother owned it next, then the decision to give it to collector Anne
Schofield, textiles being very difficult to preserve, who donated it to the museum.

Since my teenage years, when I last saw it in the family, almost got to model it
for my photographer mother, then in books, and finally took my twin daughters
to view it in the basement of the museum.

Today again we meet - on display. Since my mother passed away in 2013, I
have inherited Hannah's wedding ring, rocking chair, more photos of her and
her offspring. Also the lovely artworks of one of her eldest children Elizabeth
Charlotte, who liked to be known as Charlotte.

Here is a first photo of the exhibition, more to come, this one of a tourist, called
Hannah too!

A Special Australia Day

I went to The Powerhouse Museum today for a special visit, to view my
Great Grandmother's wedding dress on display, in an exhibition called
'Clothes Encounters'.

Not an inspiring weather day, a cooler, soft grey drizzly one, but quite a
relief after the awful heat and humidity of recent summer days.

Her exhibit is the first one you see, the dress in a large glass display, a
poster stating - 'When Hannah met Alfred'. Lower down are glass cabinets
with accessories to the outfit, more literature and photos.

She looks quite sweet in her wedding photo, if not a little started, beside her
groom, who looks quite the dandy and a little raffish with that hair if his not
quite behaving, and fobwatch and waistcoat.

The last time I saw the dress when it belonged to my family still, was in my
teens. There was even talk of me modelling it for a photo by my keen
photographer mother.

I don't know if it would have fitted me, I was very slim, but grew quite tall
by 14/15. I did do another photo shoot for mum though, dressed in antique
linens, with antique props.

Then I viewed it again in 2 publications, and one day went to see it in the
basement of the Powerhouse with my twin daughters.

She passed it to my grandmother, then it went to my mother, passed on again
after many years to Anne Schofield as it was a risky business  to preserve
such an old piece of fragile textile costume. Anne donated it to the museum.

I had the gloves that went with the outfit, and all the various pieces of the
ensemble were reaquainted.

I have since 2013 inherited Hannah's rocking chair, wedding ring, and many
other personal items of hers and her offspring. I have been researching, and
am most fond of the legend and output of her eldest daughter Elizabeth Charlotte,
known as Charlotte.

In fact, I feel as though I have inherited quite the amount of a small museum of my
own.

Pics to come.

Some Christmas Fun

We had always wanted to do one of those gingerbread cottages
for Christmas.

This year I found kits, that were Australiana themed. A dear little
settler's cottage took our fancy, and the girls had fun making and
decorating it.

 Bobbie is always nearby and always helpful.

 Complete with a letterbox and Xmas tree.

Pictures tell a thousand words

So here is the updated visual diary, of progress at The Coast House.

I am feeling quite misplaced this week, as the momentum of accelerated
work there finished. After a long run of sixteen months, suddenly I feel
such detachment and no sense of belonging anywhere.

I virtually have to rebuild my life here at home, and let go not just material
ownership, but psychological conditioning of constant working and focus, mainly of
the other house.

Problem is, 'here' doesn't quite resemble it's former self, it is in quite a state
of upheaval as we have had storm damage 3 times in the interim, and lots
of boxed goods etc. are everywhere and it's a case of where to begin.

It's going to be another really hard slog to normalcy here. Also, only a few
short weeks to take care of the overflow at the storage facility.

I'm ready for a rest, but see no way out of this dilemma except hard work.

 The only built in wardrobe painted white inside looks vastly improved, as does the linen closet.

 Just white only accessories, towels, bath mat, white soap dish and white soap. 

Bigger mirror gives illusion of more space.

Our for sale sign.

The sunroom, comfy cane chair and clean windows.

The gravel car spot and nicely pruned, healthier looking tree.

New favourite colour, 'Bali dreaming'. Cheerful entry.

The giant that had to go. A little palm tree went to a good home.

Free at last

Such an odd feeling, free of a huge chapter of responsibility, 16 months
long. How it will hit me in the next few days, and months, I don't know.

The Coast House, The Estate, barely would let me free of it's grasp,
deferred due to various things in life, children's illnesses, and my own on
the last day.

A prediction of 1 year's worth of work, blowing out by 4 months, not bad
all things considered, but way too long in personal cost, mine and family
and friends.

A surreal Gypsy traveller lifestyle, up and down a too familiar long road,
selling and giving, wheeling and dealing in goods.

Surviving and learning, longing and loneliness, deprivation quite often of family,
familiarity, local news and creature comforts. Strange diets, odd rituals in a
foreign space.

Now a blank canvas, unfamiliar rooms made anew, freshened by elbow grease
and paint. Light let in and fresh air, through uncluttered window spaces. A garden
that can breath again, untangled from it's jungle of overgrowth and clutter.

Somehow my efforts were as effective as a magician's wand, yet in hindsight what
a twisted struggle, a tortuous route.

Meeting along the way, the rogues, dealers, friends and foes. The dishonest, the
virtuous, the kind and a new self.

Pictures tell a story of sorts, but not the layers of dirt, emotion, weariness,
scratches and bruises. Still any visual record shows a good progress. Only the
involved who got their hands dirty will ever know how much.

I won't miss:
toasted cheese sandwiches, bundles of keys, the road to and from, air mattresses,
being dirty for days. Cockroaches, their eggs, Redback spiders, no TV, no Air Con
in the heat and humidity.

I will miss:
Friendly neighbour, a little channel walk, a Gelato bar, a new found independence
and level of fitness.

So here is a series of pics of the changes, the final results, telling an aspect of the
story, but not all.

Pics to come...