Dr Andi

Like many organisations, MV has an internal website where staff can post information and notices about various things. Recently I saw this wonderful posting on the museum's intranet:

Anyone want a free goat?

I need to find a good home for my pet goat Sebastian. He is a 7yr old desexed male Toggenburg with horns.

He loves to go jogging, nibble on the neighbours' roses, sleep all day & then bleat & bash things in the evening. He'd make a great pet. Not suitable for small children.

Hi, I am Sebastian the Goat, and I have my own Facebook page.
Image: Shane Hughes
Source: Shane Hughes  

I would love to go jogging with Sebastian and watch his evening Hulk moments, but alas, my flat's balcony is too small for even my pot plants. But it did get me thinking that goats are amazing animals. Here are five reasons why.

1. You can eat them, drink them, wear them... and wash, and knit with them.

Evidence suggests goats were domesticated in Eastern Turkey around 10,000 years ago. They were kept for their meat, their hide, milk and wool. Think luxurious cashmere, smooth goat's cheese, and gentle goat's milk soap.

I found some stylish kid (young goat) leather shoes in the MV collection. No doubt the collection managers handle them with kid gloves: figuratively and perhaps literally speaking.

Pair of shoes, blue kid leather with Louis heel, circa 1905-1910. (SH 880814.)
Source: Museum Victoria  

2. You can take a goat ride or use a goat freight service.

Historical images from the MV collection show harnessed goats at work and at play.

Lantern slide labelled ‘Old Ned and goats, hands blown off’. (MM 034986)
Source: Museum Victoria  

Glass negative, circa 1900.
Image: A.J. Campbell
Source: Museum Victoria  

3. Mythology combines goats with humans to become devilishly naughty characters.

Mythological depictions of the half-human, half-goat are often naughty types. Among the Greek gods was Pan the faun who was into partying with nymphs. Puck was mischievous fairy from English folklore. On the other hand, Satyrs, which are human-like beasts with goat bits, were often evil creatures.

This faun from the collection is a horse brass , which is a decoration, souvenir or amulet hung on a horse's harness. This faun appears to be seated in a lotus position!

Horse Brass - Faun, 1825-1939 (ST 034497)
Source: Museum Victoria  

4. Goats are great for playtime.

People often kept goats to keep the grass down and for a bit of milk. That's why Mitzy the goat (pictured below) lived at Janet's place in Springvale in 1957.

Girl Playing with Goat, in Field, Springvale South, 1957MM 110927).
Source: Museum Victoria  

I remember as a kid I used to love to play jacks; mine were coloured plastic. I remember being quite grossed out when I learnt that real jacks were actually knuckle bones from a sheep or a goat.

Knuckle bones found during the Casselden Place archaeological dig, circa 1880 (LL 32184 2)
Source: Museum Victoria  

5. Goats are not only sure-footed rock climbers but you can take them jogging.

Flick book with a climbing billy goat by 'Cinematograph Living Pictures', circa 1920 (HT 25043.
Source: Museum Victoria  

Flick books were a popular optical toys created in the 19th century. See our goat-inspired flick book in action in this video:

Sebastian the Goat's present owner Shane says Sebastian enjoys a bit of a jog and meeting new people. We wish him all the best in becoming an 'old goat' in his new home.

Cheers and bleats, Dr Andi

Happy Chinese New Year! In 2012 it's the Year of the Dragon. I've been stalking Wally the Gippsland Water Dragon in the Forest Gallery for days but couldn't get decent photo. I figured he should be the notional poster boy for this year's Chinese horoscope. Alas I am hopeless paparazzo because every time a customer service officer called me to say he was out and about and ready for his close-up, he would flee at the sight of me.

So I wandered down to the Live Exhibits lab to try get some tips on reptile whispering or to see if Wally had a stunt double, dead or alive. The staff responded by saying things like "oh, here I have a picture of Wally on my phone," and another said "here is a snap of another type of water dragon I took while bushwalking." You gotta love our museum staff.

1. Wally the Water Dragon only poses for visitors and Live Exhibits staff.

Wally's scientific name, Phisygnathus lesueurii howittii, has a connection to Museum Victoria. Our founding director Frederick McCoy named this species after "that excellent geologist, magistrate, and bushman, my accomplished friend Mr. A. Howitt... willing to aid in any scientific investigation of the natural products of Gippsland, and who with infinite difficulty succeeded in procuring three specimens for me of this River-Lizard."

McCoy also reported that that these lizards must have given rise to the rumours of crocodiles in Gippsland.

Wally the Gippsland Water Dragon.
Image: Caitlyn Henderson
Source: Caitlyn Henderson  

Wally's stunt double cousin, Eastern Water Dragon Physignathus lesueurii lesueurii.
Image: David Holmes
Source: David Holmes  

2. Chinese dragons have four claws and Japanese dragons have three.

Next time you find yourself in a dragon-slaying situation, take a moment to count the claws on the foot of the dragon. That way you will know the its origin; if it has four claws it is Chinese but if it has three claws it is characteristically Japanese.

Japanese dragon carving in wood with articulated body, limbs and tongue. (ST 018385)
Source: Museum Victoria  

3. Some dragons have fire in their bellies that sounds the passage of time.

Some dragons may breathe fire, but this Chinese dragon has fire in its belly; it's a reproduction of a Chinese fire clock. The dragon is boat-shaped with wires that support a burning incense stick or taper. This gradually ignites cords that then drop metal balls into a brass dish below.

Chinese fire clock replica, made by J. Bishop, Melbourne, 1959. (ST 024869)
Source: Museum Victoria  

4. Dragon's blood was once used to stain violins and treat diarrhoea.

Dragon's blood is a red resin prepared from the fruits of a climbing palm (Daemonorops draco). It is used for colouring mahogany, varnishes, for staining marble and in the preparation of lacquers and dentifrices. It was also used medicinally for the treatment of diarrhoea and severe syphilis!

Glass jar containing Dragon's Blood used in the pharmacy of a mental health hospital, Victoria, Australia, circa 1900 (SH 850502).
Source: Museum Victoria  

5. Dragons are from mythical lands and Victorian coastlines.

The Victorian marine emblem is the Weedy Sea Dragon (Phyllopteryx taeniolatus). These wonderful fish are residents of Westernport and Hobsons Bays as well as Geelong and Portland.

Like most fish, sea dragons swim horizontally rather than in a vertical position, like seahorses. However, like seahorses, male seal dragons do the egg-carrying duty.

  Seagrass habitat with two sea dragons.
Image: Mark Norman
Source: Museum Victoria  

So in the tradition of Chinese New Year, forget all grudges, wish peace and happiness to all, and sweep away ill fortune to make way for incoming good luck.

Links:

Gippsland Water Dragon

Frederick McCoy's debunking of the Gippsland crocodile myth

Question of the Week: Dragon's den

1. Summer means getting to a century... in cricket, in the old Fahrenheit, and for a beer break.

As a little kid, I remember summer was celebrated by the number 100. It was a big deal when cricketers hit a century (as it still is) and being able to say "it's going to be (or was) 100 today!" to whomever you met that day. I also remember some outdoor workers used to stop work if it got to a hundred.

One hundred degrees Fahrenheit is 38° Celsius; it's marked as 'blood heat' (body temperature) on this old thermometer from our collection. According to Mr Myles Whelan, this advertising thermometer "had hung inside the office of Whelan the Wrecker since the 1920s." He donated the sign to Museum Victoria after the company went into receivership in 1991. I wonder... did they go for beers when it got to 100°F?

Sign - 'Stephens Inks', Thermometer, Metal & Enamel, 1920s. (SH 930886)
Source: Museum Victoria   

2. Summer means water worship... sun worship is too dangerous.

Mr Hogan from the council pool was a fit muscular chap like the Roman god Neptune; he was god of water, sea and master of the chlorinated pond. For summer after summer, Mr Hogan tried to teach me to swim. He eventually got me to swim half the length of the pool but I was never able to repeat it. Swimming is a skill that still eludes me.

Nevertheless summertime does call for a bit of water worship and don't we all miss the days of wonderful garden sprinkler action.

These floatation aids were used by Margaret Daws at the beach around 1930 when she was about four years old. The Daws family lived in Coburg and rented the same Aspendale house every year for their annual two-month summer holiday at Mordialloc and Aspendale (Long Beach).

Water Wings - Father Neptune's Safe Float, circa 1930 (HT 21431).
Source: Museum Victoria  

Here's Gerald Brocklesby jumping over the sprinkler in the back garden of his family home at Blackburn, on 17 January 1953. The Brocklesby children often played in the sprinkler in the backyard for relief from the summer heat.

Digital Photograph - Boy Jumping Over Rotating Sprinkler, Backyard, Blackburn, 1953 (MM 110316).
Source: Museum Victoria  

3. Summer cool is a short queue at the Gelato van.

When I saw this toy ice-cream truck I thought I could hear the distant sound of a slow paced, slightly off tune - the electronic xylophone version of Für Elise. It is part of the William Boyd Childhood Collection of post-World War II country Victorian toys that belonged to Bill Boyd.

Toy Ice Cream Truck - Metal, circa 1950s (HT 18771)
Source: Museum Victoria  

4. Summer is all thanks to 23.5. The answer to the universe and everything is not 42, it is 23.5. The seasons of the year are a consequence of the 23.5° tilt of the Earth's axis and its orbital alignment with the Sun. The summer solstice (longest day) has been celebrated in a myriad of pagan, religious, humanitarian, commercial, and family rituals.

This orrery was made by Benjamin Martin in London, England circa 1770. An orrery is a mechanical model of the Solar System. Generally they were intended to be schematic representations for educational purposes rather than strictly accurate ones. This orrery contains a mechanism that can actually produce elliptical orbits around the Sun and is pictured in the winter position for Australia.

  Orrery, Tellurium & Lunarium - Benjamin Martin, London, circa 1770. (ST 023770).
Source: Museum Victoria  

5. Summer in Melbourne is parasol one day, umbrella the next. When I started writing this blog it was a hot 35°C day. The day I was checking the final draft, it was 19°C and a hailstorm had just subsided. By the time I went for lunch the skies were clear and the sun was out.

Many years ago an overseas friend emailed me and asked me what the weather was like; instead of taking a photo outside my office window I saw this t-shirt in a souvenir shop – so I sent her a photo of that instead.

Photo of a Melbourne 'Four Seasons in One Day' souvenir t-shirt taken many years ago at a city souvenir store.  

Oh by the way... at the moment our award-winning Planetarium at Scienceworks is running a great show about the reasons for the seasons called Tilt.

And...if you visit Melbourne Museum in the next month don't forget to check out the Summer Holiday Snaps display in the foyer. It features 40 images from our image collection depicting summer holidays around 100 years ago. We are so used to looking at people from the early 20th century in austere portraits that it's wonderful to see these relaxed, leisure-time snaps with their candid, smiling faces. Some things haven't changed so much in 100 years, after all.

Summer Holiday Snaps display in the Melbourne Museum foyer.
Image: Andi Horvath
Source: Museum Victoria  

Here is episode two of 'Meet Me at the Museum', a video series about our collection.

We marvel at how particular specimens made it into our collection.

Let us know what you think in the comments section. And be sure to see our previous episodes if you haven't already.

Watch this video with a transcript.

Do you have about five minutes? Great! Come and “Meet Me at the Museum”. It’s a new online video series about items from the Museum Victoria collection.

Objects and specimens always have a few fascinating people moments. We glimpse at those moments and marvel at the objects.

Here's episode one.

Watch this video with a transcript.

This episode of Married to the Job features Nick Crotty, Collection Manager, History & Technology, at Museum Victoria. He is based at Scienceworks.

In the spirit of tradition, we ask Nick to tell us about himself and his work by showing us something old, new, borrowed and blue.

Watch this video with a transcript

I love the idea of an ice rink outside my Melbourne Museum office window. I really want to try ice-skating at this year's Melbourne Winter Festival (18 August–4 September). Admittedly I haven't skated since my teenage years but it's like riding a bicycle, isn't it?

The subject of ice conjures a range of interesting things, from majestic giant icebergs to the tinkle of ice in your cocktail. So I went looking for things in our collection on the topic of ice.

1. Ice-skating is an energy-efficient way to travel.

I learnt this fascinating factoid at a meeting with my fellow science communication colleagues. As a mode of transport it could only suit the odd Canadian who happens to have a frozen lake between home and work.

This is one of the 420 lantern slides once used by lecturer Walter S. Binks, a popular psychology and vocational guidance lecturer based in Melbourne, Victoria. He lectured throughout Australia in the 1930s and 1940s.

Lantern slide of cartoon sketch of a man ice skating, circa 1930s. (MM 69844)
Source: Museum Victoria

Two ice skating ladies happily demonstrating a bandaging technique at the rink, circa 1960s. (MM 054716)
Image: Laurie Richards Collectionof Commercial Photography
Source: Museum Victoria

2. Ice has much associated paraphernalia - boxes, buckets, cabinets, chests, cubes, houses, men, picks and tongs.

Before domestic refrigerators there was the ice chest (or cabinet or box). This is an early 20th century Koola cooling chest. The ice was generally placed in the top part, and water was poured onto the insulation panels (often made of things like fur, skin or charcoal ash). In this object the insulation was asbestos! Yikes! The low openings in the cabinet drew in air and this created a cooling effect. All the melted ice was collected in a drip tray underneath.

Koola cooling chest (ST 030419).
Image: Charlotte Smith
Source: Museum Victoria

Ice blocks for your ice chest used to be delivered by the ice man from the ice house who would lug around the blocks using a pair of these ice tongs.

Ice tongs (ST 026528).
Source: Museum Victoria

3. Ice can be a temporary art medium.

This photo is circa 1960s. It depicts two male chefs skilfully carving ice with chisels. They have sculpted a lovely polar bear, a penguin and some seals. But look closely: there is also Venetian gondola and I think there's a punch bowl. Plus you can just make out that the centre piece is a 3D version of the old RACV logo. 

Elaborate ice-carving, 1960s (MM 054918).
Image: Laurie Richards Collection of Commercial Photography
Source: Museum Victoria

4. There are links between life on earth and my freezer.

Water is one of those rare substances that expand when they solidify. Luckily for freshwater fish, ice therefore floats providing insulation for winter and not a frozen food section.

This picture reminded me of myself pondering the defrosting efficiency of my freezer.

Lantern Slide - Woman in Ice Cave (MM 032537).
Source: Museum Victoria

5. Ice is at its best in the form of cream or gelati!

This gelati box is from Taranto's Continental Gelati and Ice Cream Company Pty. Ltd, circa 1962.

Box - Taranto's, 'Three in One', 1962 (SH 000949)
Source: Museum Victoria   

The Google doodle on June 22nd celebrated the southern hemisphere winter solstice. Earlier that morning the pop-up tag read ‘the start of winter’ but later that morning it mysteriously changed to ‘winter solstice’. It prompted me to think about the various cultural and scientific criteria that mean the start of winter. So I came up with five of my own criteria (with the help of the MV collection of course).

1. Winter means taking soup more seriously. So I ventured into the collection store to look at this publication, ready to jot down the odd recipe for you but let’s just say 1933 was probably a better year for wine.  It contained 1933 classics like Sheep’s Head Broth, Kidney Soup and Egg Soup. There was also a section on Soups for Invalids which consisted of Mutton Broth, Invalid Broth (which was mutton broth with egg yolk and milk) and Beef Tea.

   Recipe Book - 'Winter Dishes', published by Home Beautiful magazine, August 1, 1933 (SH 900857)
Source: Museum Victoria

2. Winter means little heaters with lots of personality. I used to have one; it became my little warm friend on dark nights until it could puff no heat no more. Today, heater designs are very bland. The designs of the 1920s and 1930s had character and attitude, and they had great names like ‘Jupiter’, ‘Century’ and my favourite... ‘Don’. 

 A black and white photograph of a Hecla heater circa 1932 with an embossed image of the Sydney Harbour Bridge on the front panel (MM 106793). Also check out its brother with an embossed image of a Roman chariot.
Source: Museum Victoria

Check out the names of heaters from this flyer issued by Lawrence & Hanson Electrical Co Ltd, promoting Hecla appliances, Melbourne, for the season of 1924. We actually have the ‘Century’ in the MV collection. TL52046.jpg
Source: Museum Victoria 

3. Winter means getting the first waft of your winter coat with slightly musty cupboard smell.  At school, the winter uniform also marked the season.

This photograph shows two sisters, Bernadette and Helen Herbert at the Alicante Restaurant, Melbourne, 8 July 1964. Helen remembers that she was wearing a purple coat she made herself. (MM 110815).
Source: Museum Victoria

Pair of white cotton sports socks, part of the 1996 winter uniform for Wesley College, Melbourne. Designed by the famous Prue Acton (SH 950641).
Source: Museum Victoria  

4. Winter means my work colleague went cross country skiing ... again.

Whilst everyone else in the office shudders as they look the inclement weather out the window, she is jumping for joy at the thought of powdered snow and wombat sightings. I think of soup, heaters and curling up like a wombat.

 Victorian Railways booklet promoting Victorian winter holiday packages, published in April 1939. Victorian Railways played an important role in State tourism in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, even operating the Mt Buffalo Chalet from 1924 to 1983 (HT 6107).
Source: Museum Victoria

5. Winter means Tunna or Gagulong (depending on where you are in Australia). Indigenous knowledge divides the seasons much more sensibly; depending on where you are in Australia there are more than four seasons. The Bureau of Meteorology has more info.

Knitted wool red and white beanie (1954-1957) (SH 900300).
Source: Museum Victoria

One last thing about winter – I love beanies.

Stay comfy, Dr Andi

This episode of Married to the Job features Sarah Edwards, Discovery Program Manager for Museum Victoria.

In the spirit of tradition, we ask Sarah to tell us about herself and her work by showing us something old, new, borrowed and blue.

Watch this video with a transcript

Links:

Discovery Programs

I was reminded by my mother the other day that I had once refused to eat microwaved food. It was the 1970s and I’m not sure if it was teenage rebellion or whether I was spooked by the thought of microwaves. Here are five things about microwaves - some are spooky but some are fascinating.

1. In 1945 Percy Spencer had an “Aha!” moment after a melted lolly. Percy was doing military research on radars when he noticed that the peanut choc treat in his pocket had totally melted. It was the first item of food to ever be microwaved and luckily it was a lab accident that ended well. He realised the goo in his pocket was due to the modified radio waves - or microwaves - that he was working on.

An early commercial microwave on display at the House Secrets exhibition. This is a 1959 Swedish Husqvarna, Electronic 2001 ‘Cupol’. (I suppose the number ‘2001’ must have seemed like a space age term in 1959).
Image: Andi Horvath
Source: Museum Victoria 

2. The mid 1970s became a microwave bonanza and they began selling like hot cakes. Up until then, microwaves had been used in the food industry, restaurants and even submarines. But it wasn’t until the various components, including the new microprocessor, had come down in price and early myths about radiation were dispelled that the commercial domestic market finally took off.

A salesman looking to make a bonanza of a commission. From the State Electricity Commission of Victoria collection, Museum Victoria. (MM 009529).
Source: Museum Victoria

3. Microwaves work by jiggling water and fat molecules. A rather unattractive metal box called a ‘magnetron’ is at the heart of every microwave oven; the rest is just insulated casing. The magnetron generates the microwaves that jiggle molecules so fast that they heat up the food.

 The magnetron - rather a good name for a super hero or a grunge band, don’t you think?
Image: Andi Horvath
Source: Museum Victoria 

4. Some things don’t belong in a microwave oven. The House Secrets exhibition at Scienceworks has a display of things not to microwave because it destroys your appliance. We sacrificed a number of microwaves making this film so you don’t have to ruin yours. So don’t try this at home.

The video of microwave mistakes is inside a microwave in the House Secrets exhibition. Marshmallow will puff up and then flump, thin metal creates mini lighting (electricity arcs form between the metal and the microwave) and an unpierced egg will explode due to build up of steam.
Image: Andi Horvath
Source: Museum Victoria

5. Making a tasty gourmet meal in a microwave oven is still a challenge. The pictures in 1970s cookbooks always seem rather unappetising – perhaps the food stylist’s profession was in its infancy. When I asked around the office, most people told me they just use their microwaves to heat things. Perhaps if MasterChef runs a microwave cooking challenge it may inspire people to give it a go.

 Are those chicken skewers with lemon pieces? It doesn’t seem to me to be a microwave thing but maybe that’s why they chose it for the cover: to surprise you. This 1970s microwave cookbook is on display in the House Secrets exhibition.
Image: Andi Horvath
Source: Museum Victoria

The other day when I went out for some milk, I passed by a shop window display and noticed some lovely ceramic jugs in the shape of cardboard milk cartons and a range of colourful silicon rubber versions of paper coffee cups. All these iconic containers in unexpected materials! It got me thinking about my milk and my milk carton I just purchased. Here are five things from Museum Victoria about milk containers...

1. In 1860s Europe, if you wanted milk, the only milk container was a cow or possibly a metal milk can. By the 1870s, Europe saw the emergence of large metal milk cans. I found some old milk cans in the MV collection but then I stumbled across this beautifully decorated milk can from our Immigration and Creative Practice Collection.

Milk Can, painted by Yoka Van Den Brink, 1993, using Hindeloopen craft techniques which date back to the 16th century port of Hindeloopen, in Friesland, North of Holland. (SH 931248)
Image: Taryn Ellis
Source: Museum Victoria

(I also just had to show you this intriguing image...)

International Harvester McCormick-Deering 3-S Cream Separator with Female Model, 1939. (MM 115002)
Source: Museum Victoria

2. Glass superseded metal. Some of you will remember the glass milk bottle. Invented in 1884, it meant milk could be stored for several days without spoilage because bottles could be sterilised, plus pasteurised milk (quickly heated and cooled) restricted bacterial contamination.

 Left: How cute is the Imperial half pint milk bottle from the Gilchrist Dairy, Fitzroy in use between 1930 and 1959? (HT 14148) Right: One imperial pint milk bottle painted white on the inside; we didn’t put the actual milk in the collection. (ST 038370).
Image: L: Cherie McKeich and Eloise Coccoli R: Unknown
Source: Museum Victoria

3. In 1915, John Van Wormer cried over split milk because it also involved broken glass (fair enough). He turned his frustration into an idea of a ‘paper bottle’ that had to be folded, glued and dipped in paraffin wax. He was granted the patent and ten years later he also had a machine to form, fill and seal the new ‘Pure-pak’ containers.

The humble milk carton in a gilded frame. The House Secrets exhibition at Scienceworks celebrates many domestic inventions like the milk carton.
Image: Andi Horvath
Source: Museum Victoria

4. Plastic convenience superseded wax. In the 1940s the paraffin wax was replaced by polyethylene plastic. But the milk carton did not catch on until the 1960s when cartons included a new feature: the open-able spout.

A large crowd watching the 1959 Moomba parade travelling along Swanston Street. Featured is the milk board float with a large milk bottle on top. (MM 051923)
Image: Unkonwn
Source: Museum Victoria

A one litre carton of milk, branded Pura, manufactured by National Dairies Limited. Looks familiar? It only entered the MV collection in 2010. Just like the milk bottles it will be kept for future generations to marvel at. (HT 27262).
Image: Matilda Vaughan
Source: Museum Victoria

5. It's possible we've gone full circle. If John Von Wormer were alive he would chuckle at this funky domestic accessory. I don’t think he would use it as a milk jug for coffee, I reckon he’d use it as a vase.

Glass Half Pint Milk Carton - Milk Jug
Source: Rockett St George

Today we launch our new vodcast series, Married to the Job, where we chat to museum staff. In the tradition of museum object and specimen collecting, we ask them to tell us about themselves and their work by showing us something old, new, borrowed and blue.

So let’s meet John Retallick, Public Programs Officer here at Museum Victoria.

Watch this video with a transcript

The tennis is over for another year; some people are still looking for their long-lost remotes so they can change channel and others have made a mental note to reapply sunscreen with more regularity. I’m not actually a fan of the tennis (apologies - this is very un-Melburnian of me) but my inner curious cat or simple animal instinct not to go outside in the searing heat at lunchtime led me to hunt for tennis items in MV collections. So here are five things about tennis that will be useful to mention to your tennis friends as they recover from being dedicated spectators.

1. Before the 1970s tennis balls used to be white (not fluoro green). 

Apparently the fluorescent colour was introduced in 1972 after some research showed viewers could see the ball much better on television.

Tennis balls and bag, circa 1950 or later (SH 880567)
Source: Museum Victoria

2. Tennis balls were produced as merchandise in support of Melbourne's bid to host the 1996 Olympics.

In 1956 when Melbourne hosted the Olympic Games, tennis was not yet reinstated as an Olympic sport. Tennis was an Olympic event in the first modern Olympics in 1896 but then got dropped from the games after 1924. It returned as a medal event in 1988. (Trust me - you’ll need this info for your next trivia night.)

Tennis Ball - Olympics for Melbourne, 1996 (SH 910002)
Source: Museum Victoria

3. Scandals featuring tennis players are nothing new.

According to History and Technology Collections Online:

Tennis player Billie Jean King became the first high-profile US athlete to come out as a lesbian in 1981 when she revealed her relationship with Marilyn Barnett. The revelation cost her a fortune in endorsements. She said at the time that the long-term affair had been a 'mistake', angering lesbians and gays. She was supported by her husband in a financial claim mounted by Marilyn, but they later divorced, and Billie said that the term 'mistake' had referred to being unfaithful rather than to being a lesbian.

Hmmm, today it might have attracted endorsements from increased exposure in glossy gossip magazines.

Badge - We All Make Mistakes, Wimbledon Dance, 1981 (SH 920477)
Source: Museum Victoria

4. You might meet your future spouse at a tennis club.

St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church, West Hawthorn, had its own tennis club. At the opening in 1925, the Parish Priest sanctified the courts. It was said many members met their marriage partners at this club. After the 1970s non-Catholics were allowed to join.

The two courts were originally dirt and later asphalt and they clearly didn’t have 3a water restrictions back then. The club closed in 1988 and the sign ended up here at the museum.

Painted masonite sign from St. Joseph's Tennis Club (SH 890354)
Source: Museum Victoria

I also found this delightful shot of tennis club players in Geelong Victoria circa 1935 (with ladies in their lovely blazers). I am baffled at the unbroken windows in such close proximity to a tennis court.

Four men and two women of the Noble Street Church Tennis Club standing by the net. Geelong, Victoria, circa 1935 (MM 006631)
Source: Museum Victoria

5. Early tennis rackets were made of wood and catgut.

The ‘cat’ in catgut is short for cattle rather than cat of the feline variety. The tennis racket strings were once made from a cow's intestinal wall and they were stored clamped in a frame to stop the highly strung wooden rackets from warping.

Tennis Racquet and Press - Slazenger Tournament Model (SH 891665)
Source: Museum Victoria

In a pet shop window I saw tubs of dried pig’s ears, in either smoked or natural flavours. ‘Poor piggies,’ I thought, but then remembered my love of BLTs and felt a bit hypocritical.

A fellow curious cat, Dutch designer Christien Meindertsma, wanted to find out what happens to a pig after slaughter, so she followed the journey of pig #05049 to an astounding 185 products. This is a real testament to chemistry and commerce. The list included the use of pig tissue for chemical weapons testing, bone ash for the production of train brakes and bone gelatine for placing explosives into bullet casings. The fatty acids from the bone fat ended up in shampoo to provide a pearly appearance, in crayons for hardness and in paint for gloss. The gelatine ended up in myriad dairy products and was also used to turn fruit juice, beer and wine into clear liquids.

Ever played a real tambourine – it was probably a pig’s bladder! Inspired by this research I followed a trail of pig parts (cultural, natural and smoked) in the museum. Here are five things about pigs.

1. ‘Pig’ was actually a type of clay used to make pots and it became a much loved ceramic pun. Remember owning a piggy bank as a kid?

Christmas circa 1970, from Australia's Biggest Family Album. (MM 110719)
Source: Museum Victoria

2. There were plenty of colourful predecessors to pig characters like Porky, Olivia and Peppa.

This lantern slide is from a set of 12 which depicts the children's story titled 'Precious Pigs'. (Francis Collection, MM 109847).
Source: Museum Victoria

3. It depends on time and place but pigs are also a symbol of good luck, fertility, gluttony, and uncleanness. When it comes to puddings, perhaps its symbolism depended on whether you found it the trinket, swallowed it or wore the pudding in the attempt to find one.

Christmas pudding charms, circa 1950. Such sterling silver pieces were put at random into the Christmas plum pudding. They were light-heartedly used to suggest the 'fortune' of the recipient for the next year. (HT 3131)
Source: Museum Victoria

4. We owe our health to many pigs. They have been a source of medicines like insulin, heart valves and skin for transplanting into humans.

Human Mind & Body exhibition shot of case with pig from the (now deinstalled) Biotech and Beyond section. Genetically engineered 9 month old pig used in transplant trials and exhibited at Melbourne Museum in 2000.
Image: Ben Wrigley
Source: Museum Victoria

5. A cast iron pig would have started off as ‘pig iron’ which is raw iron extracted from iron ore that flowed into sand moulds that must have looked like little piglets, hence the name.

"White" pig iron manufactured by Bolckow, Vaughan & Co of Middlesbrough, Yorkshire and exhibitied at the 1888 Centennial Exhibition in Melbourne. (ST 019338)
Source: Museum Victoria

I wonder if people who collect cute pig ornaments are vegetarian. Oink at me if you find something interesting about pigs.

I was initially surprised to see the American tradition of carved Halloween pumpkins at my local Australian supermarket. Then on second thought, I was not surprised at an American inspired commercial opportunity gaining yearly retail momentum.  

The pumpkin carving was a tad amateurish; I suspect no one in the fresh food section had done one before. I wondered if I should give it a go, then I shuddered at the thought of accidently impaling myself. I wonder how many pumpkin injuries are admitted to US hospitals.

There isn't much in Collections Online about Halloween - not surprising as Halloween is not a Victorian or Australian tradition. But when I searched the catalogues for ‘pumpkin’ - what joy!  Here are the five best things I learnt about pumpkins.

1. Some pumpkins look more like zucchinis. The museum’s Economic Botany Collection includes wax fruits and specimens and preserves an amazing biodiversity of agricultural plants.

White Pumpkin model, made in India. Displayed at the Intercolonial Exhibition of 1875. (ST 017079)
Source: Museum Victoria

2. Pumpkins can grow to the size of small children.

A small boy with a giant pumpkin, circa 1925. From Australia's Biggest Family Album. (MM 5670)
Source: Museum Victoria

3. Native insects love the introduced pumpkin. A native Victorian insect had “forsaken” (their words) native vegetation for the introduced agricultural pumpkin (check out what they recommended you spray with - arsenate of lead, tar-impregnated water and sulphur!)

Boxed botanical display of the Banded Pumpkin Beetle (Aulacophora hilaris). This was displayed at the old museum as part of a series about the destructive insects of Victoria and how to get rid of them. (HT 11387)
Source: Museum Victoria

4. There's something called 'pumpkin polish'.

Floor Polisher, circa 1955, from Larundel Mental Hospital in Bundoora. Used in conjunction with Pumpkin Polish, presumably a brand of floor polish. (SH 850040)
Source: Museum Victoria

5. You'll need one of these for your next pumpkin creation. Don't you love that it's called the 'Glamorizer'?!

Kitchen Magician Food Glamorizer, circa 1963. The instructions tell you how to use this plastic tool for carrot curls, radish roses, lemon wheels and pumpkin faces. (SH 920993)
Image: Rodney Start
Source: Museum Victoria

What do you know about the nature and culture of pumpkins?