50 Brunker rd, Broadmeadow.

It all seems so long ago now. I refer to the days of my childhood and my memories of my grandmother, Eva Dalby. Memories that have faded with time. I can still visualise my Nana’s house in Broadmeadow, Newcastle; it was her domain. I spent a reasonable length of time in that home, sometimes visiting with my mother and at other times I would stay overnight at the request of my parents. Constructed in the early 1900’s, the cement-rendered home had previously belonged to Eva’s Uncle Will (William Deakin, 1864-1941). Eva and her husband Joseph, moved into the home to care for an ailing uncle Will and so he left the home to them in his Will. It consisted of three bedrooms, two living rooms, a kitchen with walk-in pantry, and bathroom, with a separate toilet. Consistent with the early home designs (and to mitigate the risk of fire), there was a detached laundry, originally the kitchen. At the rear of the home was an additional room, built by my grandfather, Joseph Dalby.

The house was situated close to the footpath of Brunker Road. Back in the 1950’s this was the main route from the southern suburbs of Newcastle to the CBD.  There were a couple of steps at the front gate and located nearby was the letterbox, an essential item as it was a main source of communication with the world beyond. Letters from family and friends would be dropped into the street side of the letterbox by the postman who rode his bike and carried a large satchel. Depositing the mail in a letterbox was accompanied by the sound of his whistle. Whenever there were no letters in the letterbox, Eva used to say, “No-one loves me…!” People depended on mail.

Rear of house with detached laundry, formerly kitchen on right.

From the front gate there was a cement path to the main entrance at the side of the house. Large hydrangea plants grew along the wall of the house (yes, I do remember them). Once on the porch of the entrance, to announce your arrival, I remember a small knob in the middle of the flyscreen door, and I also remember the distinct jingling sound it made when turned clockwise. Nana would appear and we would be welcomed inside. If it was her day to cook, there would be delightful aromas wafting from the kitchen. She used to make the best patty cakes! Some would be filled with mock cream and others remained plain, but they were all smothered with a thick layer of either pink or chocolate icing and I prided myself on knowing how to differentiate between those with mock cream and those without. I never ate a plain one!

My memory of inside the home is of relatively gloomy rooms. Windows tended to be smaller back then and they were covered with blinds and curtains, often a sheer curtain, as well as a heavy fabric curtain. Light fittings were small and when switched on, by pulling on a cord that was suspended from the ceiling, the room would become marginally illuminated with a soft yellow glow. These were incandescent light bulbs and were inefficient compared with led-light fittings of today; they produced more heat than light. Furniture was made of heavy, darker wood with elaborate carvings and decorative finishes, later regarded as dust catchers. In the ‘back’ bedroom there was a double bed with wooden bed stead and bed head, a heavy wooden wardrobe, and dressing table. I loved to explore the contents of the many drawers of this dressing table. I discovered old brooches, hat pins, crystal beads and an old pair of wire framed glasses all stowed away in a variety of metal and wooden boxes. I recently realized that the wire frame glasses discovered way back when I was a ‘steaky-beak’ child, are identical to the spectacles worn by my grandma Deakin in a family photo!  Miscellaneous items no longer in use were stored in this bedroom. I remember suitcases and hatboxes covered with floral fabric in a corner of the room.

Eva Dalby with her three daughters. Writer’s mother, far left.

There was a large living room, adjacent to this bedroom. Seldom used, this room was a source of terror for a child with an active imagination. In one corner on a round wooden table sat a strange statuette. Whenever I approached this room, I would take a quick look at this ‘Splinter boy’, ensuring that it hadn’t come to life, and then I used to make a hasty dash to the safety of the rooms beyond it. Coincidentally, I discovered years later that some of my cousins held similar fears.

Typical ‘around the house’ attire was different to today’s more relaxed clothing. My Nana would wear a dress with several layers of firm undergarments. A girdle that laced up at the front was worn over a pair of loose-fitting knickers that resembled pantaloons. She always wore stockings and small heeled shoes. There was the mandatory apron to protect her dresses. Each day she would go down the backyard to the chook yard and collect the eggs.

Whenever I stayed overnight with my Nana and Papa, I always enjoyed a scrumptious steamed egg on toast for breakfast. How I loved to stay at my grandparents’ home! I would snuggle under the feathered eiderdown of the huge double bed in the second bedroom. As I drifted into a deep slumber, I would hear passing cars and motorbikes disappearing up Brunker road. Even today, a passing motor bike at night can take my mind back to that bedroom. In the morning when I awoke, I would be lying in the centre of the soft, sagging mattress. Shortly afterwards my grandfather would enter the room with a plate of ‘bread and butter’ rolls. He used to slice the bread ever so thinly and spread a generous layer of butter across the slices before rolling then up neatly. They were to die for!

Eva and Joe Dalby.

I loved my Nana and no doubt, she was probably subjected to a dreadful earbashing whenever I visited her. Sometimes she would call me ‘Sarah Slapcabbage.’ There used to be a faded black and white photo taken with their box brownie camera picturing me wearing hat, jumper and skirt with my panties at half-mast (another broken elastic!).

Following the passing of my grandparents, their house was sold to a cousin and her husband. During their occupancy it underwent several renovations until a developer made them an irresistible offer. Sadly, the house was demolished in 2017 to be replaced with modern medium density residences. Even though my Nana’s domain is now long gone, I still have my memories!