A Place To Call Home

How grateful I am to my many ancestors who left all that was familiar to them, and travelled to this beautiful land, my home Australia.

Here is where I would like to share some of their stories.

MARTYR SURNAME

Martyr's of Australia

I have commenced a One Name Study of this surname. So if you have this name in your tree, and willing to add to this study, please contact me. 
There seems to be at least three families that travelled to Australia.  Read their stories here.   

Bert & Margaret Burtenshaw

My Tasmanian Branch

My grandparents lived in a beautiful old federation home on a cliff overlooking the Swan River in East Fremantle, Western Australia.  As a child it was a magical  place to explore.  UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Here I will write about my ancestors James & Annabella Reid who chartered their own ship to travel to Tasmania, arriving in 1822.  UNDER CONSTRUCTION

My Murray's

All the way to Ballarat

One of my Murray ancestors Hugh Murray founded Colac in Victoria. Another inspiring discovery. UNDER CONSTRUCTION
I discovered I had some Jewish ancestors who were a large hard working family.  I was in awe when I saw a photo of my beautiful great great  grandmother for the first time. 
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Red Hair runs in the family

My Ure Branch

Here I research my Russell branch where I learnt red hair runs deep in our family.  My three children all have auburn hair which was a big surprise for me when they were born.
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I have done little research on this side of my family.  Still a lot of work to do here.  UNDER CONSTRUCTION

The Haunting Call

The old cottage stands at the top of the hill,
atching over the forest ever so still.
Surrounded by hues of green and gold,
Wattle trees stand tall, regal and bold.

The ancient stone walls are as stong as ever,
withstanding years of extreme summer weather.
A long time has passed since greeting a face,
where once her table was laden with lace.

Remnants of paint hold onto the wooden door,
while inside dirt and dust cover the floor.
In the corner an old carved chair lies on its side,
once shiny with polish and held with such pride.

The spirit of its owners whisper in the wind,
haunting the cottage with a mournful din.
Waiting for the day they know is now so near,
when she will hear their call and show no fear.

A young woman is coming with a song in the air,
enjoying the breeze playing with her long fair hair.
She knows her ancestors once worked this rugged land,
and follows the dream that is opening in her hand.


Hearing a distant call she follows with her heart,
shading her eyes as up the rocky path she does start.
Then suddenly she sees like the vision in her mind,
the old cottage she has dreamed and longed to find.

As her arms and the gum tree branches embrace,
she hears voices of welcome cupping her face.
At last there will be reast for the voices within,
her arrival marks a new joining that can now begin.