"In the beginning"


The views expressed in this blog are not necessarily the views of the blog management, (on the other hand, they are not necessarily not the views of the blog management).

No effort has been made to stay within the bounds of the truth in this blog as it has always been the view of the management that the truth should never be allowed to stand in the way of a good story.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Why I live where I live.

This is the name of a segment of a very popular radio program, (Australia all Over) which airs on Sunday mornings.

As you will come to know, if you care to follow this series of posts, this seemed a name I could use.

Dixons Creek house, known affectionately as “

This was the “quaint” little 4 roomed cottage where my life story began.

It was “home” for my first six years, so my memories are largely implanted rather than actual.

Nevertheless I do recall some events, like starting school at age four years and eight months, (as my sister had done two years earlier) to maintain enough students to keep the little school open.

This meant a walk of about three miles, no matter what the weather, and included crossing a paddock full of cattle, which terrified us!

Playing “cowboys & Indians” in a water course which seemed to me to be like the Grand Canyon, imagine my dismay to find on a visit years later that this was barely a foot deep!

The house was still standing in 2004, some sixty two years after we departed, while the condition was a little sad, it still managed to stir up very fond memories.

The property consisted of forty acres of hilly, stony ground barely able to support its rabbit population let alone any other stock.

Be this as it may, we made some attempt to extract a living from “Dixie” until my Dad was forced to leave to find work in Melbourne, some sixty miles away.

When he successfully started work as a bus driver for “The Melbourne and Metropolitan Tramways Board” we made the move to Melbourne which gave rise to the following succession of houses


Merle said...

You forgot to say that the house was moved there cheap as a man had committed suicide in it. Dad used to knock under the table & say "Come in Taylor". Also there was maiden-hair fern growing on the side of the road. Not a lot.
And we thought over the hill was the rest of the world as I guess it was.We used to ride on an old tree trnk that was horizontal &
we called it Rocky Ned.We left in 1944 when I was 10 & you were 8.
We used to g to a church bazaar & got to taste Raspberry cordial We had blackberries growing nearby
but they have declared them a pest
now so we were lucky to have jam etc when we did.

Marcus said...

What fantastic memories and stories, Holtieshouse just keeps getting better!

Marcus said...

You could have called this series Holtieshouses