Read Online Autobiography of My Mother by Meg Stewart - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Meg Stewart
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mulberries on the trees out the back. The mulberry wine was alcoholic with quite a kick to it but, in keeping with the rest of her secretiveness, Lizzie wouldnât say how she made it.
Leading off the dining room to the left was Kathleenâs bedroom which she shared with Mollie until Mollie entered the convent. This was the room with the painting of the lady and the lily which I had copied. I slept in Kathâs room sometimes. Kathleen divided the double bed into two with pillows down the middle. I was not on any account to roll over the pillows onto Kathleenâs side of the bed.
Mostly, however, I slept in one of the two bedrooms off the drawing room. These bedrooms could be entered from the drawing room or from the hall and they opened onto the back verandah that ran along two sides of the house. The shop made up the third side of the house and a second dining room the fourth side, so a courtyard was formed. A narrow staircase led from the courtyard up to the storeroom.
The kitchen was down the end of the verandah. It had wooden cupboards along the wall â the top half of thecupboards had sliding glass doors â a large wooden table on which Annie prepared the food and which she scrubbed down spotless every night with sand soap, and another table next to the black fuel stove.
Washing up was enormous and never-ending. Annieâs hands were always red. She washed and we children helped by drying. First she had to fill the tin basin with cold water to rinse the dishes, then they were washed in water heated on the stove and put to drain on the wooden sink before we dried them.
Every spring, the courtyard was filled with a warm, sweet smell and a mass of mauve flowers. An old wisteria vine that must have been forty feet long grew up a pole and twined the length of the verandah under the eaves. Snapdragons, columbines and other annuals grew in the garden beds.
A swing had been put in the courtyard when my father and his sisters and brothers were children. It was shaped like a boat and two children could climb and sit facing each other as they swung; an infinite delight.
The courtyard had wooden seats with wrought-iron ends and a white, marble-topped round table on a wrought-iron base. There was also a cage full of native finches and canaries. Linda bred canaries. She would put the birds and their nest into cages that she hung up high, near the roof. I had to climb onto a chair to see the canaries sitting on a hatch of eggs.
On special occasions, afternoon tea was served in the garden. Often Grandma was too busy in the shop to attend, so one of the aunts would preside. Tea was poured from a tall silver pot with another little one under it to keep hot water in.
An amazing orange tree grew in the courtyard. It wasamazing because no one ever grew orange trees in Yass; they never survived the winter. My grandfather had sunk a well in the courtyard as a water supply for the house and to have extra water on hand if the shop caught fire. After he died, Grandma decided to fill the well in, being worried that young children would fall into it. One of my uncles planted an orange pip in the soil where the well had been. The courtyard was protected, no frosts reached it and so the orange tree grew.
On full-moon summer nights I used to sit out in the courtyard reading. The stars and the moon were bright in the country anyway, but moonlight seemed to specially congregate in the protected square of the courtyard. I would read a whole book by moonlight some nights.
A long passageway led from the courtyard through to the laundries and past the mangle where I once caught my hand, a painful experience, and on past the big bathroom with the oversized tub to the outside toilet. Chamber pots were kept under the beds during the night. In the morning Annie had to empty them all into the slop bucket, then lug the bucket down to the outside toilet; the passageway ended in the back yard that ran down to a creek.
All summer
Leading off the dining room to the left was Kathleenâs bedroom which she shared with Mollie until Mollie entered the convent. This was the room with the painting of the lady and the lily which I had copied. I slept in Kathâs room sometimes. Kathleen divided the double bed into two with pillows down the middle. I was not on any account to roll over the pillows onto Kathleenâs side of the bed.
Mostly, however, I slept in one of the two bedrooms off the drawing room. These bedrooms could be entered from the drawing room or from the hall and they opened onto the back verandah that ran along two sides of the house. The shop made up the third side of the house and a second dining room the fourth side, so a courtyard was formed. A narrow staircase led from the courtyard up to the storeroom.
The kitchen was down the end of the verandah. It had wooden cupboards along the wall â the top half of thecupboards had sliding glass doors â a large wooden table on which Annie prepared the food and which she scrubbed down spotless every night with sand soap, and another table next to the black fuel stove.
Washing up was enormous and never-ending. Annieâs hands were always red. She washed and we children helped by drying. First she had to fill the tin basin with cold water to rinse the dishes, then they were washed in water heated on the stove and put to drain on the wooden sink before we dried them.
Every spring, the courtyard was filled with a warm, sweet smell and a mass of mauve flowers. An old wisteria vine that must have been forty feet long grew up a pole and twined the length of the verandah under the eaves. Snapdragons, columbines and other annuals grew in the garden beds.
A swing had been put in the courtyard when my father and his sisters and brothers were children. It was shaped like a boat and two children could climb and sit facing each other as they swung; an infinite delight.
The courtyard had wooden seats with wrought-iron ends and a white, marble-topped round table on a wrought-iron base. There was also a cage full of native finches and canaries. Linda bred canaries. She would put the birds and their nest into cages that she hung up high, near the roof. I had to climb onto a chair to see the canaries sitting on a hatch of eggs.
On special occasions, afternoon tea was served in the garden. Often Grandma was too busy in the shop to attend, so one of the aunts would preside. Tea was poured from a tall silver pot with another little one under it to keep hot water in.
An amazing orange tree grew in the courtyard. It wasamazing because no one ever grew orange trees in Yass; they never survived the winter. My grandfather had sunk a well in the courtyard as a water supply for the house and to have extra water on hand if the shop caught fire. After he died, Grandma decided to fill the well in, being worried that young children would fall into it. One of my uncles planted an orange pip in the soil where the well had been. The courtyard was protected, no frosts reached it and so the orange tree grew.
On full-moon summer nights I used to sit out in the courtyard reading. The stars and the moon were bright in the country anyway, but moonlight seemed to specially congregate in the protected square of the courtyard. I would read a whole book by moonlight some nights.
A long passageway led from the courtyard through to the laundries and past the mangle where I once caught my hand, a painful experience, and on past the big bathroom with the oversized tub to the outside toilet. Chamber pots were kept under the beds during the night. In the morning Annie had to empty them all into the slop bucket, then lug the bucket down to the outside toilet; the passageway ended in the back yard that ran down to a creek.
All summer
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