Some time ago I wrote about Toss. You can read it here: Lost on the Montevideo Maru. Just to reflect on Toss, he was a young boy of 18 years old when he arrived at Rabaul. Soon after his 19th birthday it is presumed he drowned after the Japanese prisoner of war ship was torpedoed, not far from Luzon in the Western Pacific Ocean, the largest island in the Phillipines.
Sunday 23 January 2022 is the 80th anniversary of the invasion of Rabaul, by the Japanese. Here is a story of the event from Barney Cain who survived the ordeal. Barney is now in his 100th year of life and tells the story of his survival. Veteran: Barney Cain
There are several books written on the attack on Rabaul.
The few I. have are:
Selby, David ,Hell and High Fever. Sydney, 1956
Aplin, Douglas, Rabaul 1942. Brisbane, Queensland, Australia 1980. 1994
Reeson, Margaret, Whereabouts Unknown, Sutherland, NSW, Australia 1993
Reeson, Margaret, A Very Long War , Burwood, Victoria, Australia 2000
Townsend, Ian, Line of Fire, Sydney, NSW, Australia. 2017
Note from author: “Your life was short Toss, but I will ensure you are remembered. “
My Dad
I want to write a story
About my precious dad.
He was a special kind of father
Who taught me good from bad.
Though only a decade we lived together
The morals and respect he taught me
Will last forever.
We lived our lives a distance apart
But our conversations were never too far.
He told me stories about his life
And he stood by me when I was in strife.
He was a stern man
As his father was before him
But he was also a gentle man.
Who loved to have a yarn with anyone who listened.
As I grow older I see the traits he has passed onto me
The gait, the smile, the manners that I will honour with glee.
For he has left behind so much good it will live on in some
And he will look on with pride of the legacy
Passed on for generations to come.
M. Hope 28 June 2020
We have had a lot of rain of late. One would not think that summer was just around the corner, thanks to La Nina.I am very comfortable at home, out of the rain, heater on when the temperature drops dramatically.
A week ago the rain was relentless and I went to do some shopping. I looked across the road to see a person sitting in a bus shelter. They had a wheelie walker, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders and goodies spread around on the concrete floor. My heart went out for them as I figured he was homeless and was sheltering in the bus shelter.
I decided to go home, get my big coat that I purchased in America one winter and have never worn it since. This was a perfect opportunity to pass it on to someone in need. Food…this person will need some nourishing food. So, I popped into the shops and purchased half a BBQ chicken, some cheese and biscuits, bananas, chocolate milk and orange juice. Perfect!! Off I went to pass all this on to the homeless person.
A van pulled up in front of me just as I arrived at the bus shelter. A gentleman got out and handed the homeless person a $20 note. He shook his head and refused to take it but shook the gentleman’s hand in appreciation. Wow!!!
I got out of the car with the bag of goodies and the jacket. He looked at me and said. “Oh lady, I don’t need anything, you are about the 40th person to pull up.” I said, it’s all healthy food and this jacket will keep you dry. He said, “Truly, I’m fine, I have a jumper under this waterproof jacket. I have heaps of food back at my camp. I am only here sheltering out of the rain.” I asked him how long he had been homeless. He said “4 years,. 2 in Melbourne and 2 here. When I came here I didn’t think I would get the pension anymore, but you wouldn’t believe it!. They gave me the pension. I don’t need it! I have everything I want!. Lady, a couple of months ago I went to the bank to see how much I had. I invested $17,000 into a term deposit. I must have another $5,000 by now.” I couldn’t believe my ears. He said he was very thankful for my kindness but I need nothing. I asked if he was happy with his living conditions. He said “Lady, I couldn’t ask for any more than what I have.”
Not everything is what it seems
So many assume. So little know.
Don’t trust everything you see, even salt looks like sugar.
The greatest wisdom is seeking through appearances – Buddha
We live in strange times today. The pandemic has taken away the privileges we thought were normal.
Normal! What is normal? We all define normal differently. My normal family is different to your normal family. My normal daily routine is different to your normal routine. Your normal beliefs are different to mine. This is what makes us unique.
Are these strange times or was our life before Covid-19 strange?
The most important thing is that the majority of us still have our life. Many have been taken by Covid-19, and many have lost members of their families.
Life is so much slower now. Although, I have not achieved much in the way of a cleaner house or a better garden. I have done a bit of sewing until that bored me. I have done a bit of reading until that bored me.
I long to do what I can’t do. I want to go on holiday via plane train and automobile. I want to visit my son and grandchildren. I want to visit my aged Aunt, I want to visit towns I haven’t visited before.
Today I just had to get out. I have been double vaccinated, so I am one of the privileged! I packed my camera, water bottle and hat and off I went in my car. Off to a bush walk close to home. Then off to the east side of the river, where I could see the progress of our new bridge being constructed. There were lots of people sitting by the banks of the river having a picnic and deep in conversation, laughing, talking and ever so grateful to be outdoors with friends and family. It was pleasant to see. How I wished I could have joined them.
As I passed the public toilets nearby, I notice some bedding on the concrete path, between the amenities blocks. How sad, I thought. I wondered where the homeless went when it rained! How lucky am I?
The path that meandered further east grabbed my attention so I decided to follow it. Along the track strolled the young, the old and those learning to ride their bicycles. The concrete path ended and a dirt track continued, so I followed it. I could see some black plastic strewn around some trees. Creeping a little closer I began to feel uncomfortable as I presumed it was yet another homeless persons’ abode. How sad! As I was walking back I saw two ladies walking toward me and I heard one say “ Yes, It is still there!” I asked if it was a humpy of a homeless person, to which the reply was “Oh, yes, we took photos and reported it to the council but they are on Crown Land, therefore, the council can’t do anything about it, but we will continue to monitor it.”
Really! I thought. I guess they have a nice home with homely comforts and a comfortable, warm bed to snuggle into when the wind is howling and the rain is pouring. Do they know what empathy is?
Back in the car to find another nearby park that has a pond and many families of waterbirds. Another opportunity for several photographs. I heard splashing, so I thought I would be able to get some action shots of the birds in the water. I found a lady feeding the ducks. I asked if it was alright to take her photo whilst feeding the birds. “Oh, I don’t care,” she said. We struck up a conversation and she told me that she was a poet but during Covid, she has lost interest in everything. “No one visits, no one calls. It is so lonely. My husband is a grumpy old man and he no longer knows my name. I am in my eighties, been married for 50 plus years and he calls me ‘f@%king woman”!!! As she left she told me I had made her day. She said “I come here every day to feed the ducks and you are the first person that has spoken to me”. “Oh! That is so sad”, I responded.
What a day! Have we lost the art of communication, compassion, empathy, love for thy neighbour, sympathy, kindness, tenderness and benevolence?
Treat everyone with politeness and kindness, not because they are nice, but because you are.
A random act of kindness, no matter how small, can make a tremendous impact on someone else’s life
At 14 years I left school and worked as a grocer boy for Derrin Bros. on Botany Road, Mascot. School leaving age was 14 years and 4 months. My birthday was at school holiday time and when I did not return to school some mug dobbed me in the teacher, so I was forced to return to school until the end of the year. I liked that job. I was the delivery boy, riding a bike with a box on front and delivering the ladies groceries to their homes. Their bickies tasted good while I was peddling the bike and the ladies would give me a bickie for being a good boy. I was also a lolly boy at night for the Milk bar, owned by Clara Apps, Billy Curtis, my Uncle and Aunty, at the Ascot Picture Show at Mascot. That was commission pay of 3 pence in the pound (2 cents in the $2). If I earned 10/- (ten shillings was equivalent to $1) for the week, I thought I was made. In January 1942 I started at A W Stanfield & Co., at Baxter Road, Mascot making rat traps. The war was well and truly on and we made traps for the army; thousands of the! By the time I was 18 years my wage was £2 /18/0 = $5.80 per week and I was courting Joan Thomas, my future wife, then.
I could double my money by getting a job in the wool yard and working much harder too. So, I started at Swinbourne & Stephens workshop at Botany. They were on the Millpond near the original Cooks River. Leaving Botany Road heading south on General Holmes Drive, if you look to your right you will see a tree and bush and I think a part of the brick chimney, that is where they were. My wage then was £5/19/0=$11.90. I finished up with a good job there, working the scouring machine but it was then that I had a yearning to work outdoors. However, jobs were not too easy to get outdoors, so I worked for Butler & Norman at Alexandria, washing bottles, my wage was £6/0/0=$12.00 a week. I lasted a month there as a job came up at Botany Council, off siding on a tip truck, carting sand, gravel and cement, loaded by hand with a shovel. This was where I had my first stint at driving a truck. A 1938 Fargo. I was working on this job when Joan and I got married. My wage was £7/5/0= $14.50. During this employ I was offered my first driving job for Harry West of Rochester Street Botany.
Loaded with 2200 sheep skins.
Harry had a contract carting coke (not drink, coal) from Manly Gas Works and delivering it to homes and industrial premises. This was all hand on work as coke was bagged and weighed, 26 bags per ton. About 86 pounds per bag (40kgs). The minimum that was sent to households was 10 bags and as North Sydney was a very hilly port of Sydney, delivering the coke was always up and down steps. The customer was always right, and the coke had to be emptied and stored at their request, under the house, in the back shed, up in Annie’s room, whatever and where-ever.
While doing this type of work I was driving a Chevy Ex-army blitz truck-table top-maximum load of 4 ton; 104 bags, hands on, hands off. My Uncle Jack (whom I was called after), Dad’s brother, was working at J. Speechley & Son at Park Rd, Mascot, carting wool and sheep skins and he got me a job there that saved a lot of travelling and time from Botany and Manly. I was given a 1928 International Singled tyre, table top truck to drive and my job was to pick up the odds and ends, to and from the wool yards, tanneries and wool stores and hide and skin stores, which were all established in Botany-Ultimo-Pyrmont. We also carted to and from the Sydney Wharves. I was only allowed to load no more than 20 bags of wool as the truck was not large enough to take more, as it had single tyres. I recall doing a favour for one of the Botany Wool scourers, by putting on extra 2 bales to clear their dock. The boss got wind of this and I was told in harsh words never to disobey his instructions. I did not anymore. I was later upgraded to a larger truck, a 1926 International with a capacity of 36 bales of wool and the biggest load of sheep skins I loaded was 2,222 and again this job was a hands on, hands off job. I still have the wool hooks I used, come in handy for the bags of chaff.
It was while working at Speechley’s when our second child, Margaret, was born (July 1950) and Mr Speechley loaned me his car, a 1930 Studebaker Sedan, wind up windows, big roomy seats, to bring her and Mum home from hospital. I would have settled for his work- car, which was a 1928 Ruby Tourer, but I remember him saying “Jack, your wife and baby will be coming home from a warm hospital and the Tourer will be too cold, take the good car.” I think I was there for about 18 months when I got the offer of a job with R.W.Miller & Co., the coal merchants. The rate of pay was similar, but the overtime was colossal. So, there was an opportunity to earn big money. The rate I was on, driving a left-hand drive ex- army jeep was about £14/0/0=$28 but usual take home pay was around £20/0/0=$40.
I eventually worked my way through the tip trucks, from the 5-ton type to the 20-ton left hand drive ex-army Mack with canvas hood. They only had three of these trucks. The largest in their fleet and I was fortunate to be driving one of these, “A Big Rig” in those days. Starting time at Pyrmont Silos was 6.30am and knock off time was whenever. We had to work Saturday mornings as well as grease and wash our trucks over the weekend. We got paid for all this of course and I remember one week collecting £33/0/0=$66. However, I was leaving home when our household was asleep and coming home when everyone had eaten and was ready for bed. So, after about 12 months of this I looked for a more reasonable type of job and hours and started with A. Pitman & Son Heavy Haulage Contractors at Rozelle. The main cartage was steel, from the wharves to the steel works, and to Commonwealth Engineering and Wagons. The first month I was driving a Mobile Crane mounted on a Federal Truck and the jib was at the rear, so I had a twisted neck all day seeing what I was doing. Almost spilt my beer at knock off time. I was finally promoted to a Semi-trailer, my first ever, and it was an Army Blitz Ford with a 32-foot single axle trailer. I was later promoted to a late model Federal Bogie Drive and Bogie Trailer. However, the travelling to and from work was time consuming and again early starts and late finish, so I resigned and found a job with H. G. Murray at Maroubra Beach, driving a 1948 British Bedford, carting wool from Woolloomooloo Wool stores to the wharves. The trucks capacity was 41 bales of wool; another hand on job, and when we were quiet with wool work we would cart fruit and vegetables to and from tail to rail to Sydney markets and frozen meat, beef and sheep from the cold stores to the wharves. It was at this time that we started to contract with C.G Dunn of Yarra Bay, who was carting paper from A.M.P. I liked paper carting better and left Murray and started with Clarrie Dunn, whose depot was opposite our Rhodes Street house, as my children will remember. Clarrie loaned me £400 =$800 as a deposit to buy the house and it took me a long time to repay him. My wages then, was £19 =$38 per week. It was while working there that Denise and Diane were born ( July 1960) and I use to use my truck to visit them at the hospital. When Mum and the twins were to come home, only Mum was allowed as the twins were tiny and Mum had to express her milk and I had to take this every morning to the hospital and when they wereready to come home we borrowed Clarrie’s 1957 Fairlane. I was eventually to become Clarrie’s foreman and in 1960 he sold out to J. N. & A. S. Miller who were the owners of East Coast Transport from Gladesville. The Miller side of the
business delivered local transport and storage and the East Coast Transport side was interstate. When I started with Clarrie, he had 6 trucks and we eventually built that up to 28 and this is why made the business looked appealing to the Miller’s. East Coast Transport eventually bought the defunct tannery of Wilcox Mofflin in Sir Joseph Banks Street, Botany. In March 1963 the Gladesville and Matraville depots were combined and I became the local Manager. No more driving! White shirt and tie and an office. Totally, I had 60 employees I was responsible for. In 1966, Decimal currency week February, I was given a company car, an XE Falcon and was sent to Yeerongpilly, Brisbane to Manage the East Coast Transport Business. In 1968 Mayne Nickless Ltd., bought the whole of our company. The Director advised Mayne Nickless Personnel, “hands off East Coast Transport”, no interference. They must run the business autonomously, and so it was like that for many years until the big boys, through channels of management and directorship, the Main Nickless influence began moving in. Mayne Nickless was a very good company to be associated with. By 1977 the increasing paperwork, business meetings, computers and scheduling to meetings, I had had enough and took 3 weeks leave to drive to Melbourne and back and staying at some cities and towns to see what was available. I called into Risdon Stud, Warwick and stayed a couple of days and was offered a job by the owner. He was the owner and founder of East Coast Transport and J.N. & A.N Miller – A.J Miller himself. So, you see we knew each other very well, so I accepted. It was something different. Horse, cattle, sheep and farming and a lot of general roundabout. This was a good experience of something different. After 2 years it was too confined and quiet and even though I was in charge of the stud for the last 9 months I just had to get out. The wages were half of what I was used to! I had to dig into our savings to allow us to live as we wanted, and of course Maree and Pete going to school was added expenses, so I took a job as a salesman for Condamine Chemical Products and the rest is history. The owner wanted to sell and move to Brisbane. We put our head in the wall, borrowed money and brought ourselves a job. Had to do that, nobody would have an inexperienced bloke like me. Well, now you have it. I told you there was heaps. Love always Dad
I was the first baby for mum and dad This made them very happy and glad To have a boy- their very first. Dad opened a bottle to quench his thirst.
Two years later when I had a little sister we called Gwen I cuddled that little sister, she was mine I tried to sing her to sleep but didn’t know a line. Gwen and I were happy by large Then along came a baby we called Marge So that made three For the family tree Devoted girls to each other Made life happy for our mother.
Sometimes I picture through life’s haze The real old house of my childhood days. The bare timber floors and the three quarter bed, Where the young children lay their head.
Newspapers stuffed in the window sills Keeping us kids from getting chills Chaff bag blankets that kept us warm And the old roof leaking when we had a storm.
Kerosene lamps we had for light Candles used ‘cause money was tight The ice man that came twice a week And the trail in the hallway from the ice that would leak.
Specked fruit and veggies mum would buy And a party time when we had rabbit pie Cheap broken biscuits our mum would buy O’ how I think of the days gone by.
The non-sewage dunny down the back Getting there at night was really black The lavy’ man , he was a stern old man He’d call once a week to take away the pan.
He’d leave a new one it was by far, clean inside and coated with tar.
The Baker called to sell his bread With that hygiene we should be dead.
The milkman, he called every day With his horse harnessed to the dray The milk he had straight from the cow I wonder if we would drink that now?
Another man with his horse and cart, would yell Clothes props – to the ladies he would sell They’d buy from him and affix to the line And hope to the Lord that the sun would shine.
O’ how I think of the times we had Maybe they were good and also sad.
Dad would wake in the early morn’ To work he would go before the dawn He wouldn’t return till the dark of night In a work worn state and a sorry sight.
Mum would heat the water for the bath he would need Then cook the food for his well earned feed Then us kids would get fed too And lick our lips on dumpling stew.
In the morning to school we’d go Walk two miles to and fro We loved that school, our teachers we met They were hard but fair and called us ‘pet’. If you played up and acted insane That teacher would surely give you the cane.
I really remember one day when We had some chooks and the little red hen Laid her eggs on the straw floor And we all hoped she’d lay some more Cause mum would use those eggs, you know To mix with flour and water to make some dough She’d make some pikelets and with some yeast Boy oh boy, we’d have a feast.
Now our family expanded with a whirl Mum gave birth to another girl We were all happy and with rejoice We maned that baby our lovely Joyce.
Our parents taught us to do the chores To wash the dishes and sweep the floors The old fuel stove cooked meals so good My job was to crack the coal and chop the wood
I was the first baby for mum and dad This made them very happy and glad To have a boy- their very first. Dad opened a bottle to quench his thirst.
Two years later when I had a little sister we called Gwen I cuddled that little sister, she was mine I tried to sing her to sleep but didn’t know a line. Gwen and I were happy by large Then along came a baby we cared Marge So that made three For the family tree Devoted girls to each other Made life happy for our mother.
Sometimes I picture through life’s haze The real old house of my childhood days. The bare timber floors and the three quarter bed, Where the young children lay their head.
Newspapers stuffed in the window sills Keeping us kids from getting chills Chaff bag blankets that kept us warm And the old roof leaking when we had a storm.
Kerosene lamps we had for light Candles used ‘cause money was tight The ice man that came twice a week And the trail in the hallway from the ice that would leak.
Specked fruit and veggies mum would buy And a party time when we had rabbit pie Cheap broken biscuits our mum would buy O’ how I think of the days gone by.
The non-sewage dunny down the back Getting there at night was really black The lavy’ man , he was a stern old man He’d call once a week to take away the pan.
He’d leave a new one it was by far, clean inside and coated with tar.
The Baker called to sell his bread With that hygiene we should be dead.
The milkman, he called every day With his horse harnessed to the dray The milk he had straight from the cow I wonder if we would drink that now?
Another man with his horse and cart, would yell Clothes props – to the ladies he would sell They’d buy from him and affix to the line And hope to the Lord that the sun would shine.
O’ how I think of the times we had Maybe they were good and also sad.
Dad would wake in the early morn’ To work he would go before the dawn He wouldn’t return till the dark of night In a work worn state and a sorry sight.
Mum would heat the water for the bath he would need Then cook the food for his well earned feed Then us kids would get fed too And lick our lips on dumpling stew.
In the morning to school we’d go Walk two miles to and fro We loved that school, our teachers we met They were hard but fair and called us ‘pet’. If you played up and acted insane That teacher would surely give you the cane.
I really remember one day when We had some chooks and the little red hen Laid her eggs on the straw floor And we all hoped she’d lay some more Cause mum would use those eggs, you know To mix with flour and water to make some dough She’d make some pikelets and with some yeast Boy oh boy, we’d have a feast.
Now our family expanded with a whirl Mum gave birth to another girl We were all happy and with rejoice We maned that baby our lovely Joyce.
Our parents taught us to do the chores To wash the dishes and sweep the floors The old fuel stove cooked meals so good My job was to crack the coal and chop the wood
The Parker family who were all proud military men.
I have been researching our family tree since 1981. As many family historians will know, you get a liking for certain ancestors, even though you have never known them in person. Well, these three lads are mine and their research has been challenging at times. Maybe this is the reason for them being ‘special;’
Let us start with Arthur John PARKER who was born in Carcoar, NSW in 1896. His parents being Thomas PARKER and Jane WILLIAMS, both born in Carcoar. Arthur was the fifth child of a family of five boys and five girls. The family moved to Cowra around 1900 and by 1909 they had settled in Leadville, NSW. Arthur lived in Leadville until he decided to enlist in the Military in 1916. You can read about his military service here. He went overseas and fought in France, was wounded and recuperated in England and finally came home to Australia in 1919 when he was discharged on 9 May.
He met up with a young lady named Ruth WILLIAMS, a coincidence she shared the same surname as his mother’s maiden name, although as far as I know, there is no relationship. On 23 October 1920 Ruth, a spinster and Arthur, a bachelor, married at St. Matthews Church, Botany. According to the marriage certificate, Ruth was born in Hobart, Tasmania in 1895, although I have not been able to locate a birth registration for her. Her father, Thomas WILLIAMS was a horse trainer and her mother Susannah TAYLOR was deceased.
Marriage Register for Arthur PARKER and Ruth WILLIAMS 23 October 1920
There is very little I know about this relationship. It appears it did not last long and I have not been able to locate Ruth in any records.
According to family information, Arthur had two sons, Eric and Toss. The mother of his children was known as Winne. My mother and grandmother (Arthur’s sister) use to visit her in Darlinghurst. She worked in a cake shop and was also a cook. Winnie, as she was known was actually Rhoda Prudence Winifred GREEN who was born at Leadville, NSW. So, Arthur and Winnie would have known one another as children.
Eric was born April 1921 at Paddington, NSW and ‘Toss’ aka Arthur, was born March 1923. These dates of birth were found in their military records where their next of kin was noted as Winifred PARKER and Rhoda PARKER.
Arthur and Winnie disappear from the records between 1920 and 1930. They are found living as husband and wife in the 1930 Electoral Roll at 44 Selwyn Street, East Sydney.
In 1936 Arthur is found in the Electoral Roll living at 1 Buckingham St, Redfern. The following year, 1937, he is living with Alice Eva PARKER at 30 Richard Street, Annandale. Then in 1943 Electoral Roll he is living with Eva at 30 Bellevue St Arncliffe. He lived here until he died in 1946. The last Electoral Roll available for research is 1980 and Eva PARKER is still living in Bellevue Street. She died in 1988 at Primrose House, Private Hospital, Kogarah.
Although Arthur and Winnie separated, Eric and Toss had a relationship with their father. My mum often visited Arthur and Eva and she said the boys were usually there.
In 2005 I purchased Arthur’s death certificate and I was shocked to see that the informant was Eric Parker (adopted son). I showed Mum and she said she thought both boys were Arthur’s children. So, my digging began.
So, I had to wait until 1921 before I could apply for a transcription of Eric’ birth. Finally the time has come and I found two registrations. I am not sure what I read into this. I am putting this on line as maybe others will see or know things that I am not aware of, especially the Child Welfare Act of 1940.
My theory is that these boys are Arthur’s and because Eric was originally registered as illegitimate and father not registered, (the boys were known as Parker as per their military enlistment and their mother was known as Parker), Arthur wanted to set the record straight, therefore he submitted another registration in 1940. Although, I would presume there would have been an authority of some kind from the child’s mother, Rhoda.
Well, goodbye 2020, it has been a disordely time for many. Fortunately, for me, I live in Australia and have been very, very lucky, although we have had a few bouts of lockdown, to date, I have come out unscathed.
Yes, I am aware how lucky I have been and I am full of empathy for those who have suffered and my heart breaks for families who have lost loved ones. We must be strong to beat this. We must also remember what our forebears went through a century ago.
Loved ones went to war and many did not return. This war lasted four years (1914-1918). Those who were fortunate to return home in 1918, unknowling, brought back the Spanish Flu that lasted for two years. That’s six years our forebears suffered, without the medications and facilities that we are privileged to have today. The world wide death toll is estimated from 17 million to 100 million. The rate was greater for young adults, according to Wikipedia.
Two decades later, World War II broke out. That lasted six years! Those that went to war and those who were left behind, suffered terribly! But, they survived because they looked after one another. That is what we need to do today. Yes, look after one another and do whatever we can to help eliminate this pandemic. It is not going to hurt you too much to wear a mask, or sanatise your hands, or log your attendance, or look after your family, friends and neighbours. We must work together and be kind and considerate. Let’s get back to basics and look after our local community, which in turn, will help look after this wonderful country we are so lucky to live in.
Yesterday, out of the blue, I received a beautiful gift from someone. It wasn’t for Christmas or my birthday. A friend of hers recently started a home based business, so she wanted to help her get a foothold. I was honoured that she thought of me to be the recipient of her purchase. I wanted to share this act of kindness and the promotion of the creator with my followers.
It was a beautiful spring morning when Benny gave a yap and walked to the cupboard where his harness and lead is kept. “Yes” I said to him, “it is a nice morning for a walk.” The sun was shinning, there was little breeze and it was just nine o’clock in the morning, so not too warm.
Off we went on our slow walk,( as Benny is male and likes every bush, fence and pole along the way). I don’t mind because it allows me to take photos and appreciate the gardens sprouting with spring and enjoying the new blooms.
Daisy Flower Growing wild.
An Azalea chasing the morning sun
A Beautiful White Gum after shedding all its bark.
Today, my daughter in law would have celebrated her 49th birthday.
She is our brave warrior who fought with a smile on her face. She suffered the dreaded cancer for twenty years but she never gave up and was always positive. Every time she got knocked down, she got up again and was ready for the next fight.
A loving daughter, wife, mother, friend and confidant who saw good in everyone. I am forever grateful that she chose my son to be her husband and from that union they created a family of two precious boys.
She knew she wasn’t going to be here to see her boys mature into teenagers. She knew her husband was going to have to do it alone and she knew he was capable.
What an excellent mentor she was! My son has been to hell and back but has never given up. Three years on and as a sole parent, he has achieved success. Those boys are a credit to their parents.
It was also remarkable how a compassionate community rallied together to help those in need. What was achieved during that time of tragedy was astounding. The love and support was surreal.
Tonight I watched Anh Do paint Father Bob Maguire. Two charming, happy and positive people brought together. They are ambassadors of love and compassion. During the show they showed a photo of Father Bob Maguire’s Foundation truck with the motto “ Who Cares Wins” and that is exactly what the community did for our brave warrior and her family.
“Appreciation is a wonderful thing. It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.”
Voltaire
“Let us always meet each other with a smile, for the smile is the beginning of love. “
Mother Teresa
“What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes part of us.”
My Alcove 