I’ve been ‘hunkered down’ working on the next book but so you still know I’m here, 😊 I thought I’d delve into the old photo box to see what might be nice to share and this one caught my eye. Mainly because of the wattage in Nanna Francesca’s smile. She looks so happy!
This was taken at one of the parties she and Nonno Anni held under their house in Brunswick Street. There’s something beautiful, and poignant, in how those who migrate forge friendships in the new place where they live. These friends becoming like family too when other relatives are far away on the other side the world.
The area under their house was perfect for a row of trestle tables, mismatched and borrowed chairs, the old, second fridge full of drinks, an old stove to cook the pasta and fry steaks. People brought what they could; home-baked biscuits, bottles of beer, a couple of watermelons, flagons of homemade wine, oranges peeled at the table. And there was always music, singing, even a bit of dancing. It didn’t matter if the food wasn’t fancy, the cement garage floor had oil stains from the car (reversed out for the night) or it was among the stumps under the Queenslander, it’s purely about togetherness and joy.
What’s lovely about the couple hugging in this photo is I remember she was an absolute sweetie and he loved her dearly but was usually pretty formal and not one to muck about like this. I think all those in the photo are gone now and it just makes me want to keep preserving as many of their stories and this lovely era as much as I can. 💙✨
A part of my Italian-Australian life in two photos… the first one – Nanna Francesca (centre) taking her visiting cousins from Sydney to Qld’s Big Pineapple. To me, there’s something about seeing these three Italian migrant women standing in front of something so Australian, knowing how my nonna loved going there and knowing how it was a world away from their stone villages in Italy. Nanna Francesca brought me back an enormous Big Pineapple pencil with a pineapple on the end of it. I was about five (and still have it!) She also bought herself a Big Pineapple tea-towel and salt and pepper shakers.
These shakers – in the second photo – sat, never used, behind glass in her ‘good’ cabinet, for decades. Then, after my grandparents had both died and the family was packing up their house of more than fifty years, I found myself standing in front of this cabinet looking at those two pineapples. Yes, they were kitschy but I couldn’t let them end up lost, so now they sit on a bookshelf in my kitchen, a little reminder of Nanna Francesca that makes me smile.
A quiet Sunday, Brisbane, 1954, out front of the fruit shop and milk bar… when cousin Tony came to visit from Melbourne and everyone met there for photos since, at this time, Nonno Anni kept it open from 7am until 10pm, 363 days a year.
Today’s the day! 
I’m so thrilled that, 
“On Boxing Day, Annibale, Francesca and the others loaded the back of the Chevrolet with cold drinks, some roast chickens and a couple of large watermelons. After several years of keeping the fruit shop and milk bar open almost every day, Annibale had decided they’d close for a couple of days over Christmas and the family would head to the beach for the day…
I never usually know what ‘international day’ it is but happened to see that today it’s in honour of rural women, so thought I’d share with you this rare photo of my great-grandmother taken of her alone.
Thinking of all those volunteering and working over this time when many get to take a break. It still amazes me how my grandparents opened their milk bar and fruit shop 7 days a week from early morning ‘til late at night with only two days a year off – for 20 years straight! And then ‘scaled back’ to 5 days a week for the following years.
Zoë Boccabella 