Showing posts with label family tree. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family tree. Show all posts

Tuesday, 27 August 2013

... and WASHING clothes.


Australia currently has quite a few interesting female comedians, or comediennes as was once the female term. A little list of some I enjoy is strangely Irish in flavour - Kitty Flanagan, Judith Lucy, Corinne Grant, Michelle Laurie, Julie Morris, Fiona O'Loughlin, Denise Scott, Gina Riley - with Fiona being a favourite.  Her dry-as-dust tales of life with five kids and a husband in Alice Springs actually make me laugh out loud - and it must be funny, not just silly, for me to laugh.

Fiona claims that she escapes to the stage of comedy clubs as a way of coping with family life ... though as I can't imagine there are too many comedy clubs in Alice Springs, in the middle of the desert, her escapes must include a long weekend in Adelaide or Melbourne. Nice.

One of her top tips for surviving the daily grind is - just chop some garlic and onion into a hot pan with oil and stir. When they all come in with stomachs growling they'll smell it and think something is happening - clear out of the kitchen and don't bother the cook - thus buying yourself another half hour to finish your coffee before starting the real meal preparation.  The phrase ' chop up some garlic and onion' is applied to a number of situations in our house.

I've recently realised that washing on the line has become my version of this.  After a 3am session of writing, editing, drawing, sewing etc - activities I really enjoy, I crawl out of bed at 10am and stagger to the washing machine.  If, late the night before, I'd put on a load of washing it would be there in the laundry basket, and I'd just have to peg it out -  giving me half an hour to doddle around the house until I am fully awake. When Big R comes up from the paddock for his 10.30 cuppa the washing line is full and housework seems to be underway. Big grin.

My washing line

And watching the drying process is very relaxing. It's lovely to sit back and admire that line of clean sheets or blindingly white nappies flapping in the breeze.  I was delighted to hear my darling nephew Jos, back in the day his youngest child, who is now 12, was a very little baby, say he thought a line full of clean white nappies was a lovely sight.  Delighted .... because men usually do not fully appreciate that style of domestic art.

J and K with middle child and a line full of nappies
Of course 'washing on the line' can be translated as laundry.  Why we use the verb washing instead of the noun that belongs there is a mystery, but that's Aussie English.  We 'do' the washing, peg out the washing, dry the washing, bring in the washing, fold the washing and put it away. Some of these jobs are done in the laundry - and that should probably be laundry room, where we keep the laundry basket and the laundry soap.

One of my favourite family stories came to me through one of my grandmother's sisters. They lived in a one room house on a dairy farm at the foot of the blue mountains west of Sydney.  The seven children were born between 1883 and 1894 and they were poor farmers - though I have seen, in old newspapers, that they won prizes at the local show for cows and jam etc. 

There was no electricity in the house, cooking was done over a wood fire, the children wore underwear sewn from flour sacks and slept on bags stuffed with straw. With the house full of children the parents had very little quiet time. The children remembered falling asleep to the sound of their parents voices coming from outside, as they discussed the day's work and future plans - mother Annie pegging washing on the line, and father, John, holding the hurricane lantern and helping with the big heavy items.  When people are so busy with hard physical work, simple tasks may seem like a break.

Bush washing line with prop
I don't think Annie bashed her clothes on rocks in the river or scrubbed them with sand to get the dirt out, but washing for a family of nine people would have been hard work and a never ending job. 

First collect the water - from stream, pump or tank, possibly in buckets and carry to whatever tub or basin she used for washing.  To remove dirt from clothes you soap and rub and rub and rub. If Annie was lucky she had a wood fired copper - and that's an adjective turned noun. The copper tubs were on legs, or stands, with room underneath for a fire. When the water reached boiling it melted grease and the bubbling action agitated the clothing, removing the dirt which was trapped by Annie's homemade soap flakes. A long stick, in our house called The Copper Stick, was used to move the clothes around and also to lift them from the hot water. I've actually continued to have a 'laundry' stick for poking things into the machine ... and killing spiders. 


I remember these wooden pegs, often called dolly pegs
because children like me turned them into dolls

Then more water was needed for rinsing before wringing everything out by hand. That requires incredible strength of hand, wrist and forearms. Just imaging trying to wring water from sheets! Two strong men would find it hard work.  Hand wringing hot cloth made incredible wrinkles so good clothes were often ironed before they were completely dry just to get those wrinkles out again.

The wringer, or mangle was another laundry aid. The heavy metal device, with wooden rollers was mounted over laundry tubs and operated by turning a handle. The washing was fed through the rollers, handle turned, fabric squashed flat and the water ran into the tub to be saved and used again. Many fingers were squashed flat, and long hair torn out, in wash houses and laundries. They were even more frightening when attached to washing machines and powered by electricity.



A wringer mounted over concrete laundry tubs

During the 1950's our new laundry had both electric washing machine and a gas powered copper. But, later, as a student I lived in a few old houses where a copper was the only furniture in the laundry (room). I hated the whole procedure and would usually opt for the Laundromat. To me the copper was time consuming, unnecessary, hard work, and I had the alternative. 

The coppers also came in handy for boiling Christmas puddings. My grandmother made about a dozen a year as gifts - that was the number of puddings she could fit into the copper. The puddings were then 'hung' in the laundry for about two weeks.


Boiling puddings



The invention of washing machines set women free. and moved puddings back to the kitchen, but even the first of the 'modern' washing machines were mechanical, and very hard work. But then electricity was invented and that changed the world.


The Hill's Hoist was an Aussie invention and was a great space saver in the backyard
and a play area for kids - we've all been in trouble for swinging on the Hills

My great grandmother Annie Wilmington Morehead was born in 1854 and died in 1940.  During her 86 years she went from hand washing clothes in tubs to boiling them in a copper using wood fire and then gas. I'm sure that even if she didn't use an electric washing machine herself in her later years she certainly would have seen one, and that's amazing.






AN AFTERTHOUGHT:
When my children left home it took me two or three years to adjust - the washing was one thing I found difficult... or lack of it after all those years. I'd go into the laundry and wonder what to do. When I saw this sign on facebook it meant a lot - and I agree, be glad of the washing you do, it means you have someone to care for. 










Friday, 24 May 2013

understanding COUSINS

- it can be confusing and over the years the exact description may have changed a little, but a simple explanation is this ...

Brothers and sisters have the same parents. 
The brothers and sisters of your parents are your aunts and uncles. 
The children of your aunts and uncles, and your cousins, are your cousins.

FIRST cousins are the people who have two of the same grandparents as you.

SECOND cousins are the people who have the same great-grandparents as you, but not the same grandparents.

THIRD cousins are the people who have the same great-great-grandparents...

FOURTH cousins are the people who have the same great-great-great- grandparents ...

FIFTH cousins are the people who have the same great-great-great-great-grandparents ...

A cousin REMOVED is only slightly different.  Removed indicates that the two people (you and the cousin) are from different generations. 
You and your first cousin are in the same generation which is one generation younger than your parents and two generations younger than your grandparents.

A cousin ONCE REMOVED has a difference of one generation so your mother's first cousin is your first cousin once removed, because you are one generation younger.

A cousin TWICE REMOVED has a difference of two generations so your grand-mother's first cousin is your first cousin twice removed, because you are two generations younger.

Working in the other direction if you have a son, and your first cousin has a son, they are SECOND cousins. The relationship of your son to your first cousin is cousin ONCE REMOVED.
Your grandchildren and your first cousin's grandchildren will be THIRD cousins.

Going up or down, the generations remain the same - counting first, second, third etc cousin for the relationship and then removing by one for each separating generation.



1925 - cousins with an Aunt

It can be good to make a graph, finding the common ancestor and working out from there. Working with half brothers and sisters might be a little difficult and while in real life it makes no difference to your feelings for them it can complicate a family tree with lots of extra entries. As long as you are not in a hurry it's a lot of fun, and very satisfying when you work it out.



1986 - first cousins on holiday



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NOTE: The children in the photos above are related -
Top photo: the little girl front left with the tongue poking out, is Margaret, 
Bottom photo: these children are Margaret's grandchildren - though she only knew the oldest 3.

Thursday, 16 May 2013

looking at THE FAMILY TREE ...

I hate housework, but if you can do it on automatic you can use the time to meditate on other areas of life. While vacuuming the bedroom I went over the interesting discoveries I'd made on an ancestry site the night before.  Taking my Dyson out to empty I passed the TV  - showing a Star Trek episode.  Seeing the 'SS Enterprise' uniforms, reminded me of the old sci fi movies that predicted we'd all be wearing skin tight metallic onesies by now when I realised the characters were talking about family history and almost the exact thoughts I'd had a few moments before - family stories can be passed down incorrectly, names mispelled or confused, secrets hidden ... etc.

In the days before the wikis and sites like Trove  and all those ancestor-dot-coms, learning family history relied on the family memory. Researching details involved finding birth, death and marriage certificates which often had to be viewed in the archives of the church where they were registered, head stones, newspaper archives and military records, also requiring you to be there in person or finding old letters and diaries. Now we save all that time and travelling because libraries, history buffs and anyone who has worked out a way to make money from this interest, have put so much on line you can almost do it all from your desk.  

Ancestry is usually the activity of the over 50's, possibly because that is when people are adjusting to changes in their life and many find they have the time and also because you need to live quite a few years before looking back is interesting .

Once you begin you can become addicted, a bit like a metal detector on the beach, you don't know what you'll find but there is no end to the finds. My family tree now has over 300 'characters', many of them people I'd never heard of until this year and twenty of them new this week.   Only the closest branch of my tree resembles the family group I knew of - amazing how people will gloss over some things, leave someone out, just never pass on information and every generation has those who are not interested.  I relied on conversations with my mother and her mother ...  and they had reasons for not sharing the whole truth or for getting it wrong.

One problem is finding family.  For those of us who are of British descent the easiest way is to follow the surname - fine if it's something fairly simple like Stone or Frost - easy and common enough to work with. Then you get some difficult ones like some European family names, changes in spelling or language as people move around. In Denmark the number of surnames is limited and it's not easy to trace an Anderson or Jensen. My grandfather's family changed their name to Weston at the start of WWl.  Before that the name had been Swertman, or Schwertmann or even Schwertdmann - the further back you go the more letters in the name.  I'm not sure how other cultures would do it.

So, it occurs to me that we limit ourselves.  What about the women? - and what is this 'family name' thing we have invented, for boys only.  I can see that following the surname is the easy way - the Family Name or Blood line - except that it isn't. Every man who marries and has children has mixed that precious blood line with another - it's watered down by the blood line of another family, over and over, with each generation.

When I look at my mother's family I started with two surnames but by following the women as well as the men I now have more names from each generation ... more than several, those families had 8 - 10 children and if half of them were women who married that is 4 or 5 new surnames in the family and their children are related to me as blood cousins.  This is why it's fun... but also dangerous ... can you imagine how much time it all takes?

I planned to limit my search to those who were born overseas and died in Australia. This shortens the paternal branches of both my grandfathers as their fathers immigrated but both mothers are from old Aussie families and there seem to be some very feisty ladies on the list. I'm interested in finding out more about the one wife from Tasmania, maybe they were convicts (shhhh, don't tell Ma-ma). The new surnames I've found through the woman in my family include Wilmington, Weeks, McHugh and Earlam on my mother's side and on my father's, King, Noble, Styles, Hammond, Kirk, Webster, Wood and Green.  Not too difficult and makes me feel very rich in relatives.

My big find this week was one Russell Henry Morehead, or Henry Russell Morehead, depending on which document you read. He was born in 1897 at Greendale, near Wallacia NSW, one of seven children. At the age of 21 his occupation was Dairyman when he enlisted in the AIF and went off to fight in the Great War. His sister, Ivy Elizabeth Morehead, of "Wanatta" Ewart St, Dulwich Hill, was listed as his next of kin, possibly because their father, Thomas Morehead was deceased. 

My grandmother was Eva Morehead. Her grandparents arrived in Australia on a ship named Wanatta.  She grew up on a dairy farm at Wallacia, NSW and had relatives living at Dulwich Hill, so this is definitely my family.  Russell would have been my grandmother's cousin. He was 9 years younger than Eva, and his father, Thomas, would have been her uncle or great uncle, a branch of the family I have not yet pursued - and this is exciting.

On 17th July 1918 Russell's ship left Sydney, but on the 31st July he was taken to the ships hospital and diagnosed with pulmonary tuberculosis. A week later he was admitted to hospital in Durban, then sent to Cape Town and returned to Sydney in September - discharged as medically unfit in October 1918, one month before the war ended. 

He later married Dorothy Emily Weeks, who was 13 years his junior, bought property at Wiseman's Ferry and they both lived happily and prosperously until 1999, always including his sister Ivy in their lives. If only I'd known, I was not far from them through the 1970's and 80's. I had lost touch with all my mother's family because some relatives suffered embarrassment over situations during the depression - but that's another long story.


Russell Henry Morehead - photo 1918





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