Skip to main content

Georges Plains


Not very much further along the road, after a passing a modern brick real estate development spreading over the hillside we come to Georges Plains, a little community clustered around a disused railway station.

Old towns are a delight to junk lovers like me, there is always something to see.  Mind you I only like to collect photographs, my junk collecting days are over now my house has as many antiques as I care to gather.

See more of Georges Plains over at 100 Towns.

Comments

  1. I find it salutory/salutary to remember that this sort of lamp lit my way to bed every evening when I was achild. We worked on the kitchen table to thre light of the Tilley lamp (which was white) and then were given individual hurricane lamps (which gave a yellow light) to repair to our bedrooms.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. In my childhood they were only used in the very frequent blackouts during summer storms. I realise that during this time we visited farms that were not on the electricity grid and they had lanterns but we were never there at night time to understand how it worked itself out in normal living.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Reading

The tiny camera's tiny battery ran out so I went back to my reading. The note with the sculpture says "This bronze and copper sculpture contrasts a series of small human forms with the architectural weight of on oversize staircase. The artwork has a philosophical aspect by reflecting on the effect of reading on the spirit - 'the more I read the smaller I feel'." Crikey, I dunno about you but if reading made me feel like that I'd stop.

The end

I retire from the workforce this week and to celebrate have decided to retire my current blogs and start afresh with a single consolidated blog -  My Bright Field  - to record the delights of my new life adventure. If you are interested follow me over there.  I will still be Sweet Wayfaring and collecting Royal Hotels.  The delights I discover along the way will appear together with my gardens and towns where I live.

Coolibah?

Is that a Coolibah tree beside the abandoned house? Every Australian knows about Coolibah trees because the bush ballad Waltzing Matilda is nigh on our unoffical national anthem but most of us live nowhere near the inland where they grow. Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, Under the shade of a Coolibah tree, And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled, You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me. Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me, And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.