Family Reunion

Just got home from the family Reunion Weekend. It was fantastic and it really made me wish it weren't so long in between them.

We had a chance to catch up with cousins - some of whom we lived in each others pockets throughout our childhood ( or so it seemed) and swapping tall stories with uncles and aunts; laughing so hard, your shrieks become gasps for air and pity for the story to stop. Lots of people brought photos from days gone past and there was much giggling over stories surrounding them.

Singing round the bar and retrieving toddlers from mud. This is family....

Happy 90th birthday Gran! - wow what a milestone.

It was a pity not everyone could make it - but with folk spread all round the world - its a little hard to orchestrate it all... especially on just a normal weekend. I know those who couldn't make it are looking forward to the tales and the photos.

Enjoy the clip I put together.

A trip into the Past

Have you ever visited a childhood site filled with memories and was shocked when seeing it with adult eyes?

Last weekend while visiting Mum and Dad, I decided to take Jodi and the kids to the Dalveen Tunnel. Jodi is writing a story on a woman who is stuck in tunnels and has never been in one before – so although it isn’t particularly long or dark like an underground pipeline tunnel, it would give her an idea of the oppressive feelings you have when consumed by darkness.

My sisters and I used to go down to the tunnel on a regular basis. Sometimes we were given 20c to go and by a banana bar ( not sure of the name – but it was a taffy like yellow banana flavored bar) which was pulled into three pieces as we walked along the tracks. The tunnel was huge, long and very spooky. It was cloven into the steep hillside by Scottish workers nearly 200 years ago with simple picks and shovels. Bricks were made on the site and some still lay by the small waterhole near by.

We drove down to the nearest spot and struggled to clamber over the fences – which as a child I remember bounding over. I decided to walk over the hill and we would climb down and walk through the tunnel and then wander back to the car. As we climbed over the last fence and looked over the side to the tunnel opening, I had my mummy eyes on and they were wide with horror. There is no way I would climb down the steep embankment now and couldn’t believe that we used to race up and down the edges so easily and with little fear. The ledge was at least 20 feet in the air and I remember sitting on it swinging our legs and generally chatting as we watched the clouds and birds go past. My feet tingled with that awful dread and I began to sweat. Good Grief! How was I going to lead 3 small children and Jodi – who was afraid of the dark and of heights down there?

We wandered down a little way and I found a small relief in the cliff face. I took a photo of it on the bottom and wondered afterwards what possessed me to think I could bring a three year old down that. In their defense though – they were perfect – and followed my instructions to the letter ( probably terrified to death) AND are still talking about the adventure.

The tunnel isn’t half as big or as long as I recall. However, in the middle of it – very cold and still a bit spooky. The echoes reverberate around you and the oppressive darkness sinks deeply into your psyche. Its hard to distinguish where you stop and the darkness begins. The hand cast bricks are starting to crumble with age and the smoke from fires long past is flaking off the ceiling.

We walked out into the fresh air and sunlight having chased away the past demons trapped in the constant night and breathed deeply. Neither Jodi or I wanted to let the kids know who freaked out we had been in the dark.

The kids thought it was a wonderful adventure and desperate to go back again.