I have recently visited the Gippsland region in Victoria, the area my mother’s family settled in the mid 1800’s.
While there I went to the Bairnsdale Historical Museum as I remembered, from a family reunion in the 1980’s, that John Caughey’s slab hut from his property, Calajero was there.
It was there sure enough, but the museum was closed over the New Year period and I couldn’t access it so I’ve had to settle for a photo from the internet.
I’m sure we’d find it hard to live in something so basic these days but our pioneering forebears had no choice but to use the resources nature provided, the timber on the land on which they built.
When Auntie Nell was alive she researched the family tree and I have a huge scroll safely stored away with all her handwritten entries dating back to the 1600’s in Ireland.
Auntie Nell’s research also uncovered a few skeletons in the family closet! I think the story goes that when John Caughey’s wife died he never legally married his next ‘wife’ – so we are descended from illegitimate stock! People my generation and younger thought this an exciting feature in our family tree whereas my mother’s generation ‘tut tutted’ and didn’t want to know about it 😊
My family history fascinates me and I’m sure when I settle down somewhere and give up my nomadic lifestyle I will unfurl Auntie Nell’s scroll and immerse myself in research and discover even more about my ancestry on both sides of my family.
PS: I am participating in #bloganuary, a WordPress challenge to blog every day in response to a daily prompt. Today’s prompt is How far back in your family tree can you go?
Ooops, I haven’t really answered the question, have I?
2 thoughts on “Family Connections”
This is fabulous. I’m not one for family history. I feel that my Grandfather was a Charlie also, or there was a Charlie that lived with my Grandmother in Yarram? I think i remember calling him Uncle Charlie. He used to sit in his chair by the window.
Details sketchy, reckon I would of been all of five.
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That would have been your Great Grandfather, Charlie Caughey, who lived to the ripe old age of 99. When he was in his 90’s he was still driving to the Gold Coast to play bowls in the winter. Scary thought