 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| This is a picture of my home, taken when we purchased it in 1959. Now it look a little different. There is a really tall Silver Birch, that I planted when we first moved in, and of course all the bushes are now MUCH taller. |
| The house was built in1917-18 and the style is California Bungalow,very popular in Australia,after the first world war. It was built with love, by Mr Baker, as a wedding present for his son. Inside it is all french polished, and the doors are made of beautifully grained Australian timbers. It has a heritage listing, which means nothing can be done to it with out the heritage council's say so. It is the house I grew up in, and was married from, I even had my wedding reception here. My parents loved this house and both died here,I hope to be lucky enough to do the same. All my family has wonderful memories of this house. I am now the oldest resident in the street [ not in age] and have watched it change and families grow up and move on. The little Angel even plays with a little girl, whose mother I remember as a little girl. Please come and look at some of the little changes I have made, especially to the garden. |
| Here is a picture of Bosco, taking the wall paper off the walls in the lounge room, It was a huge job as there were 5 layers of paper, stuck on very securely. It took hours and hours, even Mama helped strip the bottom of the walls. Now the walls are a beautiful moss green, which really sets off the French polished wood work. |
| Here are two photo's of my back garden, taken when I was just starting to renovate..I had forgotten how terrible it looked. I shall take some "after" pictures to show progress. I am not a very orderly gardener, I collect cuttings from everywhere, and stick them in to see what happens. Sometimes nothing, but at other times great results. Everything in my garden has a memory of a person, or a place, and of course my precious dogs who sleep under their own trees. |
| Some of the visitors to my garden.The little Skinks live under the rocks, and some times come out and sun them selves on the bricks, they are very small, and none of them are orange worse luck, but they are so delicate. The Magpies are wonderful, their song is beyond description, and for me it is "Australia". Possums I often see in the evenings, running along the fences. I love to see them sitting up on their back legs, munching on pieces of apple we have left out for them. Some people hate possums, but I love them, more than my roses. |
 |
|
 |
 |