Tea and Me | Capturing Queensland's special tea-related memories

Cup of Tea Day

Posted on 28 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

Our mothers’ lives in the early 1950’s were definitely not easy. For many years we had only a copper to wash clothes, a cast iron wooden stove, an icebox for refrigeration, an no hot water unless we again boiled the copper, which we did to bathe each night, and the whole family bathed in turn in the one tub of water – the youngest going last and getting the coolest bath!

Because each task took so long to complete without mod-cons, our mothers worked with fairly strick routines to get through each day – Monday washing day, Tuesday ironing day, Wednesday baking day and so on. But come THURSDAYS – now that WAS a special day.

Robin's granddaughters using the same teapot mentioned in the story

Each Thursday all year round, my darling mother and her best friend two doors down, took turns at making morning tea. Thursdays were days that we did not roam too far from home because at about 10 am we would hear the call “Marie”, or “Anne”, yelled on top note, depending on whose turn it was. This was the signal to all the children at home for the day to drop everything and run at full pace to the allotted home – the one where we could smell fresh sponge cake filling the air. Yes, every Thursday was Cup of Tea and Sponge cake day. Our mothers beat those sponges with no electric devices – said they had strong wrists from milking cows from 5 years of age! The tea was good old Bushells, and the sponges varied from plain with jam and fresh cow’s cream from the local dairy, to ginger sponge, coffee sponge, and all other varieties of sponge. It was always a Sponge though – and a masterpiece each time.

The tables always had the best linen laid, including napkins, silver teaspoons, and fine bone china cups/saucers/plates for both Mums. The two daughters had their own dear little cups and saucers which were a real feature of our childhoods. We rarely saw this finery any other time except at Christmas and Easter.

My mother had one of those tiny silver willow patterned teapots from which she could eek 2 cups of tea in those fine-bone china cups. If a larger pot was used, on special occasions the children were permitted to taste some milky, well sugared tea. Yuk! With six ravenous children and two over-worked Mums, there never was a piece of cake left for afters!

Memories! Memories! Yes, Thursdays were very special days in our neighbourhood – CUP OF TEA DAY! Robin Foster

Brisbane City Hall hospitality

Posted on 28 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

Margaret Jones and family in front of the Mural at the Brisbane City Halls 1960s

In the 1960′s my Mum ran a souvenir and photo kiosk at the base of the clock tower in the Brisbane City Hall. She always made me a nice hot cup of tea when I went in after school. This tradition continued when I visited with my children. I would look after the shop if Mum had to bank or visit Curran’s on the corner of Adelaide and Edward Streets. My Mum was a real ambassodor for Tourism and many Brisbane Lord Mayors congratulated her on her beautiful photo portraits with scenes of the William Jolly Bridge or Brisbane City Hall in the background. Many tourists from all over the world were also given a free cup of tea as they waited for the lift to take them up through the clock tower. Charlie and Fred the lift drivers were also ambassodors and very welcoming and informative about our beautiful city hall.

My Mum was Margaret Mary Jones of Longfellow St Norman Park and then Clontarf. Sheila Forknall nee Jones

Afternoon tea at Aunt Molly and Aunt Janes’

Posted on 27 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

This wonderful story was written by Joyce Bott’s mother. Joyce found it in her diary.

The year was 1905. Visits to Aunty Jane and Aunty Molly’s were so familiar to Blanche, many times she went to visit and it was always the same procedure.

Aunty Jane (centre back) and Aunty Molly (lower front centre)

The Nairn house in Thorn Street, Ipswich was low to the ground with a verandah on three sides, a detached kitchen and a hallway through the centre of the house which opened a door to each room. All the windows were heavily draped with red velvet and cream lace curtains over a draw blind so that no air or light ever ventured into the interior. Hence all the rooms were dark and hot, that’s the way it was in those days. Floor mats covered the lino, a long runner in the hallway and large plaster of paris dogs sat where the hallway entered the dining room.

After the family arrived they were given a long glass of lemonade to recover from the hot day and they proceeded to the lounge for a formal talk; about the weather, the family and any gossip to be shared.

The children gathered in the hallway to lie flat on the floor and put their ear hard to the floor, listen, and often there would come a dull thump. “That’s the miners with their picks down in the bowels of the earth, picking at the coal seams” Aunty Jane would say, just as she had said many times before.

The family moved from the lounge to the dining room for afternoon tea. The kettle was on the stove and boiling. All the fine china came out and was carefully placed on the table. The milk jug was covered with a netting cover adorned with small shells. The tea pot not only had a cosy to keep it warm but also a handle holder as the white silver teapot’s handle was hot. The tea was poured and handed around. There was a variety of cakes and scones served. The open dresser displayed the dinner set, tea sets and special plates and the cups hung on hooks under the shelves.

The children sat and looked and said nothing. They were not included in the conversation and were only expected to listen and speak when they were spoken to.

When all the procedure was finished, goodbyes were exchanged and the family left for home in the sulky.

Thorn Street, Ipswich 2011

Hi Tea in Tully

Posted on 26 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

Marilyn Roberts

“Come have a cuppa.”

And we’d sit and sip.

Watching the sunbird

build his his nest.

We’d stare out at Joe’s vegie patch,

as the cane trains

hauled back and forth

across the paddocks.

Wanting each bin to carry away

the shared secrets

that only beaten wives can share;

Knowing the loneliness

of the rejected mother

would fill train after train

never to be fully crushed at the mill.

Sometimes we’d just gossip and laugh

pretending we weren’t the ones

being gossiped and laughed about,

and say knowingly,

deprecating smiles just visible against the china rim,

“Well at least while they gossip about us, they are leaving others alone.”

As the sun disappeared we’d rest our secrets

in the nest in the eaves.

The sunbird giving his last call

as the the Sunlander pulled into the station,

drawing our conversations further from home

out beyond Innisfail and Cairns

but rarely to your birthplace

in Sicily

or mine in Sydney.

We’d shared our pain and our sorrow

our happiness and joy

over one cup of Hi tea. Marilyn Roberts

Tea and Me by Margaret’s cup

Posted on 26 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

Margaret's Staffordshire tea cup and saucer

Fifty-eght years ago I was removed from a shop display window in the small country town of Esk. Wrapped in tissue and cellophane by a dear old lady, I was presented to her nephew and his bride on their wedding day. I was considered too precious to be used everyday, but I was taken out on a Sunday or when visitors came. Along with other pieces in the afternoon tea set to which I belonged, I was placed on a neatly embroidered linen cloth, along with homemade cakes, Arnott’s biscuits, and a tiny vase of flowers. In those days tea was made in a china teapot using loose tea leaves and boiling water from the kettle, then covered with a hand knitted woollen tea cosy to keep the tea warm. After waiting a few minutes for the tea ‘to draw’ it was poured into us as we sat on our matching saucers.

Most people stirred in sugar, and some added milk, but my owner, Margaret, loved her tea ‘black’-just as it came from the pot. I was lifted to her lips, and quite oftern my rim got smeared in lipstick! Occassionally the tea was poured into the saucer to cool it down before drinking (but this was not considered very genteel!)

Nowdays I sit inside a glass china cabinet, almost forgotten. Gone are the days I remember. My owner, her family and visitors now take a mug from the kitchen drawer, drop in a tea bag and add hot water. But I still feel loved when someone opens the cabinet door, picks me up, turns me over to see who made me*, and remarks on my quality and beauty. And my owner still loves her ‘cuppa’, any time of day or night, even if it is in a mug.

*Barratts, Staffordshire, England. Margaret Daly

Bush Picnic

Posted on 26 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

When I was at primary school in the early 1950’s, we lived on the corner of Ruskin and Minnis Streets in Eastern Heights, Ipswich, in a house my father was building himself at weekends and after work. The streets were unmade dirt tracks, and the view from our front steps was across paddocks to Mt Flinders in the distance.

Jensen girls at Bundamba Creek 1953

Sometimes, as a great treat, he would take time off and the family would go on a picnic. Mum pushed the pram containing the youngest sister, with our togs, towels and the picnic rug stowed around her, while Dad and us older ones carried the other essentials, chief among which was the old black billy, carefully wrapped around with newspaper secured with string, and packed with a parcel of raw sausages. We crossed Hancock’s paddock via a narrow track to reach the black soil stock route which is now Robertson Road, and then walked down that to reach Bundamba Creek. A short walk along the bank upstream brought us to the sandy swimming hole and grassy picnic spot.

Lenore at Bundamba Creek 1954

While Mum settled the rug and the baby, we collected firewood for Dad to build the fire. The billy was filled with clear running water from upstream, a green gum twig was placed across the rim, and it was carefully placed to boil, while we were then free to splash and play for a while. When it was ready, Dad tipped in a handful of loose tea, waited a couple of seconds for the water to come back to the boil, lifted off the billy, and then, the most exciting thing – swung it in a couple of big circles, before standing it on the ground and giving the side a sharp tap with a stick to complete the settling of the leaves. (Oh the joy when I was finally judged old enough to be allowed to swing the billy!). The tea was carefully decanted into enamel mugs, liberally sugared, and handed round. The sausages were cooked on a wire rack over the coals and we played round toasting our bread while they cooked. After eating, we went off to play again, while Mum and Dad reboiled the billy for a second cuppa. Clearing up involved carefully dousing the fire and covering the wet remains with sand, rewrapping the billy and grill, collecting any unburnt rubbish and packing away the wet togs and towels with the mugs and tin plates.

The way home always seemed a lot longer (but it was uphill), and finally we climbed back through the fence, Mum and Dad lifted the pram over, and we trailed back through the paddock towards home.

I have the happiest memories of those long-ago bush picnics, and the old black billy. Lenore Lindsay.

The Wisdom of Tea

Posted on 26 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

Tea is the beverage of wisdom, wisdom that has brewed in Chinese dynasties, infused in royal courts; it has a wisdom steeped with magical and mystical properties. The leaf with world wide appeal, chaa has an impressive history and is still key in many present day recommendations and cure all’s. My parents were most enthusiastic tea drinkers and passed their age-old wisdom’s on to me so I could benefit from their experience.

“The best cuppa you will ever have is the one a nurse makes for you after your first baby is born…”. That was my mothers’ favourite tea wisdom and at 30 I found she was right. After the ordeal of birthing my first child that first cup of tea in the wee hours was pure bliss. Then again I was so overwhelmed with my new arrival I think it could have been made from stagnant pond water and with a thrice used tea bag and I still would have rated it the best cuppa ever. Nether less I still regard this as proven tea wisdom I hope to pass on to my only daughter.

My father’s favourite theory was the fight fire with fire philosophy. After he had been gardening in the hot Queensland sun for hours on a summers morning, when the temp hit 35 deg in the shade and no breeze was to be had “the only way to cool the body temp down”, he said, was to “have a bloody hot cuppa tea”. He often sat at the old kitchen table, soaked with perspiration, calmly sipping his steaming tea patiently waiting for the mysterious cooling effect to take hold as I sat and marvelled at his peculiar rationale.

Now I have my own children and my own tea wisdom. My boisterous and busy offspring are always insisting I join them in some activity that I don’t often have the energy for. They have learnt they must wait until Mum has finished her cup of tea, so they wait and they wait…what they haven’t learnt is that I have acquired an uncommonly large teacup. My husband has affectionately labelled it my “tea bucket” and although it takes half a kettle to fill, it affords me a long sit and ponder, a chance to summon my strength, before I am forced to extract myself from my sunny breakfast chair and join the game. Although mine is a modern twist to the deeper age-old wisdom, it is yet another personal tea wisdom that will be added to my parents insights and passed on to my children…..I only hope my tea cup is still in tact to pass on as well. Lea Roper

Noritake

Posted on 15 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

Some tea cups are for everyday and some are for special occasions.

Noritake tea cups and saucers

Four years ago, a good friend called on the mobile. She was outside and wanted to tell me about a Youth Cultural Program. Inside, over a cup of tea, served in my best Noritake cups, Pat Waldby explained that a ship for World Youth run by the Japanese Government was scheduled to come to Australia. Two young Queenslanders had been selected to represent their country. They needed support for cultural exchange gifts. I agreed to join a support group. On 5^th February 2007 the Nippon Maru with 250 young people from around the world sailed up the Brisbane River and docked at Portside. I greeted Queenslanders Adam Woods and Scott Buchannan and met some of their young friends. I was bowled over by their enthusiasm.

A cup of tea in Noritake Cups led to a wonderful experience. Denis Drouyn

Tea, cake and memories

Posted on 15 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

Home for Tea by Michelle Harkness

I have very fond memories of my maternal grandparents, Jack and Elsie Mullins. They were newsagents who ran their shop in Parker Street, Cootamundra, N.S.W. My mother’s name is Patricia Walsh. During the 1960’s, my sister Wendy and I would visit Nanna after school on Friday’s when my mother would go off to shop for the messages. Jack and Elsie lived at the back of the shop and next door was the Val Ray cakeshop. Nanna would take us in for afternoon tea and we would feast on jam tarts and powder puffs.

As we got older we learnt to drink tea. Nan always made the best tea and we drank it from pale yellow cups and saucers (Johnson and Brothers, I think.) We had a pink and blue set at home, but if we were really lucky Nan would bring out her special cups and saucers. Every time I look at them now I think of her. They were made in England and were marked Bell China on the back.

Michelle Harkness' tea cup and saucer

When Nan and Jack retired from the newsagency and passed it down to their other daughter Marie, they moved to Justin Street. Over the following years as I went to the local high school and then onto College I always would find myself being drawn back to their home and afternoon tea with the Bell China cups and saucers and a myriad of home-baked goodies. These special tea times were a respite and peace from the big family that I grew up in. For as long as I can remember Nan would always say that she would give me the china when she was no longer here. She died in 1985 and I was ever so grateful for the china and a small tea scoop spoon that featured a souvenir of the local Cootamundra post office on the top. I have my own collection of china cups and saucers now. I love garage sales and flea markets and still find it hard to resist a cup and saucer. My husband and two children often laugh at my funny collection of china and all the bits that go with the Art of Tea, like doilies and tablecloths, but that is another story.

Michele Harkness.

Tea tales from Gympie Library

Posted on 15 Jun 2012| by Chrissi |

The following stories were submitted to Tea & Me by the wonderful patrons and staff at Gympie Library. Chrissi

Janice van der Molen's trio set, Gympie, Queensland

My cup, saucer and plate were purchased here in Gympie, along with a few other sets, either at Vinnies or the markets after I moved down from Darwin in 1998. I am sure they would have a history attached to them. Janice van der Molen

An Unusual Afternoon Tea.

Our section Head invited myself and four work mates for afternoon tea at her home. We were hesitant in going as she was not very popular. Nethertheless we accepted and duly turned up at her home inDarwinon a hot, dry afternoon. We all arrived at the same time with comments such as—”I am dying for a long cold drink”, another— “I would like a coffee”. Our hostess greeted us and we were ushered into a large room where the dining table was already set with a lovely table cloth, delicate china cups, saucers and crystal glasses. When seated our hostess poured cold water with a slice of lemon into crystal glasses, very acceptable. Two of us were asked to help bring in the plates laden with dainty sandwiches, a chocolate torte, little tartlets and a platter of fruit. We were told to help ourselves while our Hostess made the tea, “a very different TEA” she remarked as she disappeared to the kitchen, returning with a very large red teapot. Pouring into the dainty china cups, she suggested we sip first and if we wanted sweetness to not add sugar, but the honey from the dainty glass jugs on the table. “Quite a few of our guests enjoy this tea on a hot day”, remarked our Head. I must admit we were all rather hesitant at first as to what may have been added to the tea pot! I sipped, the flavor had a citrus taste, honey was added and it was then enjoyable (I have a sweet tooth). We all agreed that even on a hot day it was refreshing. Then, after the second one with laughter and jokes on what the flavor was, our Hostess told us she had put COINTREAU into the tea pot, but she assured us that we would all be fine to drive home later. I did again try serving Cointreau Tea to friends, but they remarked that would rather have “Normal Tea”. Janice van der Molen

Janette Wilson's cup from Amsterdam

Travelling Tea Story

Wandering the cobbled streets of Amsterdam eating hot chips with mayonnaise, would really have loved a mug of Australian tea. Before us was a small truck with a crane moving a piano through a double door on the third floor of an apartment block. Amazing, no staircase to carry it up. Then I realised all the buildings in Amsterdam had a hook at the top for just this purpose, and this was the face of “moving” in Amsterdam. I came across my cup just after watching this, it has all the distinct and different houses that line the canals. In Amsterdam some houses and buildings lean a little, but my cup isn’t like this, my houses all appear straight and tall. I purchased it to remind me of a wonderful holiday in 2007 when we visited our daughter, Alison and because I still wanted that cup of tea. Jeanette Wilson

David Wilson's cups from Vietnam

Vietnamese cups

Purchased in Hanoiin 2008 my cup is a twin. The first cup has a pictorial display of labourers making pottery in Vietnam, the second shows the artisan completing the work – the second cup is the one that I prefer. The thought of the creative effort is always very appealing, but the labouring cup is always available when I have misplaced my cup. As there is a degree of labour with all things creative this seems to be very appropriate. I like my tea black, though not too strong. David Wilson

Rachel Letham's trio set

My earliest Tea Memory is of Grandma drinking tea from a teapot when we went to visit her on a Saturday afternoon. As no-one at home ever drank tea, I used to find the tea being poured out of a teapot very intriguing (all steam rising from the pot made it all seem a bit dangerous). Grandma used to always make my sister and I a spider drink, whilst she sat and drank her cuppa. The teacup set pictured here is over 77 years old and belonged to my Grandmother Beryl Wilson. It is made of Fine Bone BellChinaand is pattern number 34472. Rachel Lethem

A day of “Cuppa’s”.

Olive Regina Webb, known to seventeen grandchildren as Nanna, baked the best scones and pikelets and always served them warm. “We’re here Nanna, and we’re starving” would be the cry that would herald our appearance as we ascended the back steps to the kitchen or the heart of the home as Nanna declared it. It was she who introduced my brothers and me to the cup of tea and at a very early age. The first pour of the pot would half fill the teacup, it would then be diluted and cooled with milk. A single teaspoon of sugar was allowed as long as we did not stir too long or vigorously. This morning and afternoon tea ritual was enjoyed many, many times during our childhood and thus the happy connection was made with a cup of tea and the feeling of belonging.

Years passed and many cups of tea later I had the blessing of a sharing a very special day with my Nanna around my kitchen table. It was a day of cuppas. It began early on the 12^th of May 1993. I woke knowing that today was ‘the day’. My certainties lead to my husband, Ross, ringing my mother who lived over 500km away and telling her the news. She was on her way! At breakfast we discussed the day’s plans over a cup of tea. Claire (9 years old) and her twin brothers Peter and Robert (6 years old) went off to school as usual. Kate (2 years old) and I waited for the expected visit of Nanna. She just happened to be in town staying with her daughter and family. Over a cup of tea we shared the news. ‘Keep walking’ was her advice. Time passed. Nanna shared with me the stories of her motherhood over a lunchtime cuppa and while we prepared a casserole for tea and pikelets for afternoon tea.

What an afternoon tea it turned out to be. The tablecloth was spread and the blue and white teacups were set out (not a mug was in sight). Mum had arrived much to the delight of the children who had returned home from school. Nanna sat at the head of the table around which everyone else had congregated. Ross had even found time to join us. It was a gathering of four generations. The large willow teapot was full and chatter flowed. There was an air of excitement and expectation. It was a holy moment, a moment of belonging.

At about 5pm Nanna was collected by my aunt and with a small suitcase in hand, Ross and I also left. There was work to be done. Mum took over the kitchen. By the time the wall clock chimed 8 pm, the children were fed and bathed and ready for bed, and she had answered the phone call which told her that the midwife was satisfied, Ross was relieved and I was sipping a well earned cup of tea. Her new grandson, our Jeffrey Ross was wrapped snugly and asleep. She would call Nanna and pass on the good news. Narelle Davies

Geoff Barlow's koala tea cosy

Tea in High Places.

Having been introduced to tea at the ripe old age of three, I now admit to being an addict and carrying a thermos flask of the brew into some very unlikely places. It has to be said that none of my tea drinking experiences quite rival the efforts of eccentric mountaineer Chris Darwin who, besides being the great-great grandson of Charles Darwin, is famous for staging the world’s highest ever high tea, on the blizzard-blasted slopes of the highest peak in the Peruvian Andes (6769 metres).

My somewhat more modest tea drinking experiences include:

1. Lunch at the picnic tables in Brock Park Stanthorpe, while sleet was falling.

2. Sharing a thermos flask and chocolate cake with my family on the top deck of the Stradbroke Island ferry.

3. Tea at Thredbo with snow all around.

4. Drink-driving (but only tea) while steering a 1974 Valiant sedan between Townsville and Cairns.

5. Tea and hamburgers on an Amtrac cross-continental train while travelling through theS ierra Nevada Ranges between Nevada and California.

6. Tea in the back yard of a bush pub (lots of “what are ya- where’s your fourex” commentary).

7. Anyway, tea is the most civilised drink in the world, wherever it is drunk. We owe China a lot for bringing it to the world and England a lot for bringing it here. As long as it’s not tea bags with the floor sweepings included – leaf tea, in a pot, is the way to go! Geoff Barlow

As a young child I would love to stay with my Gran and Grandad who lived around the corner. At home I was not allowed to drink tea, but at Gran’s I was not just allowed to drink tea, it was my job to make the tea! I would empty the old leaves out of the aluminium pot through the kitchen window onto the garden, heat up the pot with hot water from the wood stove, put in the tea, one for each person and one for the pot. Fill up the pot with hot water, put on the cozy then turn the pot round three times and let it steep. Gran would pour the tea into our cups, big breakfast tea cups with saucers for herself and Grandad, my special cup was this carnival glass mug, as I was too young to use the traditional china set that was handed down through our family. Patricia Shaw

Mary Powel's Japanese cup c. 1946

My tiny Japanese cup and saucer are part of a small set given to me in 1947-48 not long after the end of the Second World War. I don’t know if my Uncle bought it or “souvenired” it. I played with it as a child, as did my own daughter. I think it is hand-painted It has survived a great many moves, from Japan to England to Australia. Mary Powel