My parents used to visit my grandparents on a regular basis, mainly at weekends.  Apart from my parents Eva and Rex Chapman, there was Dorrie and her husband George Webster and their two children Elaine and Bruce, Ruby her husband Bill Matthews and their boys Lloyd and Darrel, Jessie and Jack Cole with Barry and Lindsey their sons. The house was always so full of people but we as kids had a lot of fun.  As it happened on the day the gold was first discovered all of the men were there, all doing their part in the operation.  The wives didn't always accompany them as it was difficult to travel so often with the kids, and in those days the roads were poor and it took us three hours to drive the 150 miles. The news when it came caused great excitement, the nugget was a good size, but not huge.  It was deceided that if the predictions were right we would have to make plans for a more permanent arrangement.  The men went back to the mine after they had recovered from their initial excitement and all agreed that the vein definitely had potential.  It was agreed that my Dad and Geo. Webster would leave their jobs and move up to Wedderburn, that way I could go to the local school as I got car sick every time I travelled too far and that suited me just fine. Geo's kids were older so they would stay in Melbourne and only visit on weekends or holidays. My other two uncles lived closed and it was easier for them to come up at weekends, without uprooting their families.  Because we (kids) had spent so much time in Wedderburn we had lots of friends so it was as easy transition for me to go to school there, and my cousins had plenty of friends to play with.

When I think of the work it must have been for my grandmother with so many people in the house I shudder, but at the time we never gave it a thought.  Children have no concept of these things, but my poor grandmother really had it tough.  The electricity was connected but she had to cook her own bread and all the meals on the wood stove.The ironing also was done with flat irons....these dirty black cast iron relics that had to be heated on the stove and then wiped clean and used before they got cold again.  The water was kept hot in a huge cast iron kettle and urn.  They would sit on the stove top all day ready for all sorts of uses.  To have a bath was another experience; first we had to light the copper and get the water hot, which we had to haul from the well or the tanks.  The bath was in the "washhouse" a usual place for the bathroom in those days.

Above Some of the family at mealtime.  Mostly there were two sittings

No one thought it important enough to have a bathroom in the house so each evening out we'd go to sit in a cold tin bath with about three inches of water in it, in the light of a candle or lantern.  The smaller kids got to wash first then the older ones and finally the adults.  The first person up each morning had to light the fire and fill the kettles.  We all had to wash each morning in the outside basin that was at the back door.  A lovely ceramic bowl with a jug beside it. Unfortunately the water was so cold that most of us just splashed abit and quickly dried off.

Each of the kids had their own chores to do each day, the one we all wanted however was to clean the hallway.  It was a long passage that divided the house down the middle.  Grandma had lino on it, and it was a great place to slide full tilt up and down while cleaning at the same time.  The chore we most disliked was sweeping the backyard.  There was only dirt there and we had to sweep it so that the dust wouldn't get into the house, it seemed pointless to us but after it was swept we had to throw water on it to keep it damp. The chickens had full rein of the back yard and as soon as we had cleaned it they would scratch around in it and make a mess.

Above House in Wilson Street.

The toilet commonly known as the thunder box was at the bottom of the yard, and it was the one place where all the kids got creative.  Each time we got a magazine we would decorate the walls with pictures.  It had so many layers of paper that the wind never had a chance of penetrating it.  The nightman (the guy who changed the cans) and often came in the day, sometimes called at the wrong moment, and if you were unfortunate enough to be in there, well too bad.  He just opened the back door grabbed the can and shoved in a new one  in the blink of and eye.  To make matters worse he would often call out a greeting.