I remember my great grandmother, Edith Caller (rhymes with “valour”), as a happy, snowy-white haired lady who seemed to chuckle a lot; I’d say she was jolly. To me, she was “Nanny Caller” who lived in an old timber house set on a large block in Putney, on the Parramatta River. There was an extensive vegetable garden, an array of fruit trees and still plenty of room for ballgames and chasings during family gatherings. We always felt very safe and … Continue reading