Well here goes another attempt at blogging. I am possibly, no definitely, the world's worst blogger. Which is odd considering I like writing, I like telling stories, and I like to share my thoughts.. maybe too much some times. As we head into 2019 at full speed, I just wanted to share a bit about my maternal grandparents and Goodooga. This is the house my mother grew up in, in a little town called Goodooga, in north west NSW. If you have been to Lightning Ridge, you may have seen the signs to Goodooga. No one really goes there anymore unless they are visiting friends and family, as the roads are not all bitumen, and most things have closed or burnt down. No shop, no pub, no petrol. They have a post office which does a wonderful service for the community with take away food, groceries, plus all the other post office things, as well as extended hours. There is a medical service with a nurse (or 2?), and health care workers. The doctors fly in etc. There is a small school too. So much different to when we were younger, and definitely different to my parents and grandparents days. My grandparents house is now gone, but I still have lots of other family there. For a town which appears to have nothing, to me it has everything. It has space, it has fresh air, it has a river (well which could do with a lot more water!!!!!), and it has the history of both my families, my ancestors, all embedded into the country. Driving the last part of the trip from Brisbane, is on a dirt road from Hebel, to cross the border into NSW... and once my car hits that dirt I feel like I am home. And on the return journey, I feel like I am leaving something behind. A little piece of my heart.
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4/20/2022 09:48:05 am
Hi Wendy,
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