Back in the day when the Blue Bird was known as the Marathon Saloon and Oyster Bar, they served seafood. Well, there has always seafood on the menu in one shape or form but these particular oysters came from Sydney each day on the train and somewhere along the line, ended up under our floor.
I'll tell you how I think they got there. Roadside collection of household and shop refuse would have been a thing of the future back then. It was quite common, as I understand, for people to dispose of composting rubbish under the floorboards. Out of sight essentially but not probably out of smell. However the dark, dank earth under the floors of buildings would have provided a good composting environment. It is surprising then that some bright spark never worked out the fortune that could be made growing mushrooms under their floor. Never mind. Just as long as the decomposing food didn't bring vermin with it, although I'm sure it often did.
Anyway, we figure that the shells went in under the floor sometime between 1903 and 1930 because Young Peter tells us that his folk were not in the habit of dropping shells under the floor. Coins and marbles sure, and they lost a crow bar under there once, he thought we might have retrieved that for him, but not apparently oyster shells. Peter's cousin Nick from the Matis side of the family, told us the story of the local millionaire from down the street. According to legend the millionaire instructed the two Greek waiters from the Paragon (that would be Tony Matis and Old Peter Veneris), to scatter oyster shells over the muddy Green Street so that he wouldn't get his spats dirty. Nick reckons that if they ever dug up Green Street they would find it paved with oyster shells rather than gold. Well, we have our own handful of found seafood memorabilia to add to our growing collection which will eventually go on display as the Box of Blue Bird's Memories. But for now..it's back to my seemingly neverending painting. Sigh.
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