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. 💙✨
Bisnonna Francesca… a companion post to the previous on Bisnonno Domenico. Likewise, I didn’t get to meet her yet each photo has a little to reveal and brings the past somewhat closer in that moment. A rare photo, circa 1930 (bottom right) shows Francesca in Palmi, Calabria with her mother, Soccorsa, the baker and her daughter (Nanna Francesca). The three who lived together for years after Domenico was in Australia. And then (top left), just Francesca and her daughter, soon to leave to join him in 1934. She and her mother had worked hard to help raise the ship fares, determined as she was to be reunited.
In his work clothes (top left), one knee patched, behind him his Applethorpe orchards on land he’d hand-cleared, long before he could afford the horse.
Zoë Boccabella 