|
THE NIGHT I RAN AWAY FROM HOME
I was 8 years old at the time and not
happy with having to wash dishes when my brother was allowed
to work on the farm.
That's when I made the big announcement.
I'm leaving and going to stay with my friend Noel.
I didn't understand why my mother was
helping me pack my small suitcase; and, when she helped me
on with my hat and coat I just assumed she didn't want me to
get a cold.
I was quite proud as I walked down the
garden path and out onto to the hill, where our house was
built. There were no houses in sight and it was an unusually
dark night except for the light coming from the back
verandah. The wind was whistling through the pine trees
sounding like a ghost - Oooooooh. In the brief time period I
started to walk down the hill, the verandah light was turned
off and one of our dogs started barking setting off a chorus
of barking dogs from the farms around us, I even thought I
heard a wolf howl, Owwwwl. I started to tremble, and then
the moon slid behind the clouds and it was so dark I
couldn't see where I was walking. I got a flashlight from my
bag and turned it on, but it didn't work. Then I tripped and
fell in the mud.
That is when my bravery failed me. I
dropped the case and went running for my life back the way I
came, up the hill, through the gate, along the path and up
the steps of the verandah. I think I was crying as I started
hammering on the back door and it seemed like it took
forever for it to open. When it finally did there was my Mum
with her arms wide open, so happy to have me back so
soon.
CLIMBING THE PINE TREE.
This was a challenge I was up to. After
all the trees were not that high and the branches were
spaced close enough to make them like steps.
The object of my tree climbing was a
bird's nest, near the top and out on a limb. My action plan
was simple. Get to the first limb using the fence post next
to the tree; use the other limbs for my feet; climb up to
the branch with the nest; and, walk along that one while
holding the one above.
This was not a new experience to me; I
had climbed smaller trees where the nest was in the V formed
by branch and trunk. As I climbed I gained new courage with
each step. Wow, this is fantastic, I can see for miles from
up here. My biggest surprise came when I was only a few feet
from the limb that was to be my "bridge" out to the nest.
The limbs looked closer together from the ground. Now that I
was there my perspective had changed and I could see they
were 6 feet apart, I would have to stretch my full height
just to reach the upper one. I sat down for a moment to
consider.
That's when I made my biggest mistake - I
looked DOWN. I could see my younger sister, on the ground.
It was so far down and I felt I was going to fall. I would
have to give up on the nest and just try to climb back down.
Climbing up happened to be the easy part. Going down was a
lot harder, I also had to keep looking down - I
froze.
Fortunately, my sister saw what was
happening and went to get my mother. My Dad made me wait 2
hours up there until he finished milking the cows.
In the years that followed I was to climb
many trees but never one so tall.
STUCK IN THE MUD
Have you ever had that sinking
feeling?
The feeling that the further you go the
deeper it gets.
I had this experience one-day as I was
taking a short cut across the cow yard and I found the mud
was almost up to the top of my boots.
It wasn't that deep, but I was only ten
at the time and had visions of being dragged down like I had
seen in the movies where someone stepped into
quicksand.
As I turned to retreat I found lifting my
boot was not as easy as lifting my leg. I couldn't move, if
I lifted my leg but the boot stayed put, I tried to pull the
boot up with my hand but I nearly over-balanced. Taking my
boots off wasn't a solution
Either considering the content of the
mud. This was a cowyard! Poop everywhere.
Yelling out to my dad was what I normally
did when I was in trouble, but the milking was over and my
dad was far away fixing a fence. It started raining and,
without thinking, I turned as I lifted my leg and this time
the boot came out so I kept zigzagging turning right then
left until I got back to where I started.
I was so relieved I just stood there in
the rain and laughed.
MAD MAGPIES ( Note: Magpies are black & white
birds about the size of a pigeon)
Most birds become very aggressive when
they are nesting. This allows for them to protect their eggs
and chicks from predators and allow them to survive.
Magpies remain a part of our childhood
experience because every year we were reminded, sometimes
with little warning that spring had come.
From our house to the main road was a
half mile track and along that track was a row of pine
trees. We had to walk, or ride our bicycles, along that
track to catch the school bus so we were potential victims
of the magpies' defenses.
The first time was often the worse,
swish, flap, snap, as the vicious "maggie" would swoop down
at us without warning. After that and if we were constantly
looking we might see them coming.
The only warning we usually got was to
sudden swish as it dove straight down, flap its wings within
feet of us, with a sudden rush of wind, and then snap as it
pecked aiming for our scalp.
If we were lucky that warning was enough
to raise our guard, but occasionally we would feel the peck
on our head and reach up to find it bleeding. Once warned we
could protect ourselves with a hat or stick or book
bag.
FEEDING CALVES
As a boy I always enjoyed feeding the
calves.
My sister and I did this in a pen near
the milking shed which had 5 slots in one fence where the
calves could poke their heads through to get to the feed
buckets.
A few days after a calf was born it was
weaned from its mother and kept with other calves in that
pen. We had the job of teaching them to drink and to feed
them twice daily. We would put some fresh warm milk in a
bucket, go to the calf in the yard, dip our fingers in the
milk, and let the calf suck them. As the calf licked our
fingers we would dip them in the milk. This was to try and
get the calf to lap the milk by itself. It only took a few
tries for the new calf to learn how to drink.
After that the calf learned to find a
slot and the waiting bucket of milk. You could tell it was
happy by the way it wagged its tail as it drank by itself.
A few days later we would mix some
pollard (wheat ground into a powder) with the milk to make
it more nutritious.
Don't tell anyone this but we would also
pretend we were in a rodeo and ride the calves around the
yard. They were not at all happy and usually made enough
noise to bring our father running.
BILLY CART
We would start building the cart with a
spare potato box and three planks. We also need wheels which
we would scavenge from an old pram or stroller.
One plank would be nailed across the rear
of the box. The second would be nailed down the center of
the box and out another foot on the front end of the box.
The third plank was bolted in the center at front so it
could turn. We would mount old pram axles on each cross bar
and tie a rope to the ends of the front arm for
steering.
Our house was on a hill with grass going
down the steeper side finishing in a gentle slope where we
could slow down.
On the other side was a dirt track around
the side of the hill with a bank on one side and a cliff on
the other. After a few hundred yards it would level out
before going up smaller hill at the bottom. The track was
always a challenge as it had ruts made by the rainwater and
was very uneven. If you hit a rut the wrong way the cart
would spin around and flip us out. We could also end up too
close to the bank or go over the side.
On a successful run we could get to the
bottom of the first hill with enough speed to get over the
next and continue on for a quarter mile. On an unsuccessful
run we might just get to the bottom of the first hill with a
lot of bumps and dirt- before the cart. We had a lot of fun
racing each other like a real derby.
Another cart we built by using the front
of an old bicycle with the rope tied to the handle bars for
steering. This was good on the steeper hill but a lot harder
to steer.
SUMMER COOL
Summer was usually hot on our farm, often
exceeding 100 degrees,
and we had to find ways to cool off. It
could be a muddy dam, a cow trough, or a water tank that was
almost empty. These were close at hand and OK if we needed a
quick cool down.
Our favorite spot was a deep pool in the
creek. This pool was about 2 miles from our home and
surrounded by trees. The creek started as an underground
spring that never dried up. To get to the pool we would walk
across the paddocks, always on the watch for snakes. We
would hang our clothes in a tree, climb out along a limb and
plop into the delicious cool water. We didn't need towels,
as just a few minutes in those temperatures were enough to
dry off. We would often spend a whole afternoon at the
pool.
We didn't need a clock either for we
would hear old Bert, Dad's trusty dog, rounding up the cows
for the evening milking. That's how we knew when to get our
things together and head for home.
THE SHADOW THAT WAS NOT
One day as my 2 brothers and I were
working on the farm we noticed a large tree on our
neighbor's property a mile away that seemed to have an
unusual shadow. As we watched the shadow kept growing in
both directions and we realized something was wrong.
While our older brother took the car to
ring for help, my younger brother jumped on the tractor and
I on the tailbar and we set off at a speed too fast. At
every bump in the paddock the tractor would bounce and I
would find my feet in the air before landing back on the
bar. As we passed a watering trough we stopped long enough
to wet 2 hessian bags, we always carried, and raced to where
the tree stood. When we got there the grass fire, the cause
of the odd "shadow" had grown to 50 feet across and was
getting bigger. It must have taken us 20 minutes to beat out
the flames with the wet bags. I know we made several trips
back to the water trough in the process.
Eventually the local fire brigade arrived
to mop up and douse the flames in the tree's trunk. They
were appreciative of our quick response for, had we not done
so, the fire would have spread to longer grass, bracken
fern, and the scrub nearby where it may have burned for
days.
Return to Top
of Page
| 