Wow, three months in. Would love to hear how you are going. One awesome young lady has shared her journal. I was so impressed Good work, Jade. Now to this weeks question.
You can’t choose your relatives but let’s write about them. Your aunts and uncles? Is there anything special you remember? Does one come to mind, an eccentric or just a special person in your life? Who were they? What were they like? Names, dates, memories …come on give it a go – shake the tree of memory and see what happens . Happy writing.

I have a special Uncle his name was Frank.  He died when I was six but I have vivid memories of a tall, rotund, white-haired man.  He had a florid complexion very  Irish looking, with sparkling blue  eyes and an infectious rumbling laugh.  He always wore a suit and tie and had a pocket watch on a chain.  This is pre-decimal times  and he would always give me sixpence.  It was the equivalent of 5 cents but you could buy so much with it. I don’t  have a photo much to my regret.   What I do have is a memory of images and  smells,  his eau de cologne, his  smiling face, a presence and the sound of laughter and a shiney bright sixpence.

Francis Laurence  Hardiman  –  A special way to be remembered. 1889-1956




2 thoughts on “Challenge Question Week 12

  1. Jeffrey Another short piece from me.
    Ada Mary Cooper was born in Adelaide in 1892. She spent her childhood in Broken Hill and eventually moved to Sydney where she married Frank Kelly Snr; in 1929.
    Auntie May as we called her had a son in 1930 and she was the eldest sister of my maternal grandmother.
    Family members remember her in different ways.
    Auntie May would visit my Mum and I every Tuesday, on a regular basis. We lived at Glebe and she lived at Maroubra.
    Public transport in those days was by tram or bus.
    Often we would travel with her into the city for shopping excursions. One day whilst in Woolworths in Oxford Street, I became separated from her and Mum and I can remember Auntie May became quite irate, quickly marched us across the street to Winn’s department store and purchased a child harness for me so I wouldn’t get lost again.
    Early Tuesday mornings I would wait on the balcony of our flat, watching for the 9.30 tram to arrive. When I saw her get off the tram I would race down stairs to greet her at the front door. She would always bring with her two cupcakes she had purchased before visiting. One was for me and the other for her son Frank for his lunch the next day.
    When we visited her she would often set out morning tea in a most fashionable manner. The best crockery would be provided and tea in a china teapot. Milk was in a small jug covered with a beaded doyley. On the odd occasion we would stay the whole day and Dad would join us after work for an evening meal.
    Auntie May’s appearance was one of a cultured and fashionable woman. She dressed immaculately with hat gloves and handbag. At times she wore a bloody fox fur, its glass eyes staring down at me and its tail hanging down her left shoulder. It scared the hell out of me and I hated it.
    Unfortunately my association with Auntie may was not last. She passed away in her sleep, the night after her sons 21st birthday. She was cremated and ashes interred at Eastern Suburbs Memorial Garden in Sydney.
    Shortly after her death Frank gave Mum and Dad the opportunity to rent her house in Bunnerong Road. This offer Mum and Dad took, so my memories of her lingered long after her death as we were surrounded by her possessions and memories.
    The only bad memory I have of her is That Bloody Fox Fur.

    Liked by 1 person

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