My Mum When Dad married Mum, x-ray was his trade, T’was a brand new field - they had it made! But when they were just thirty, his health was shattered With four young kids they found out what mattered He was put out to pasture,- told to get some fresh air So they bought a chook farm to try their luck there Dad was so sick and was living on pills, The house was small, farm life had no frills The sheds were decrepit, the equipment was sparse And the idea of chickens was really a farce They determined to do whatever it took They’d make it work by hook or by crook They ran a disciplined home and as kids we all knew If you stepped out of line, you’d be in the stew Before breakfast each day we’d verses recite JND’s Bible only – it had to be right Bedtime each night Mum read from a book, Line upon Line, nothing else got a look Our washing unending, our meals never stopped, The dust and the grime – Mum worked till she dropped She cooked dinner on Sundays for whoever came, Roast chicken and veggies – was always the same Tea for old Paddy and a bone for dog Laddie, Latecomers - cold spuds and overcooked cauli Dad bought her a Bendix –what a washing machine! A commercial vac cleaner, an iron with steam A Hills Hoist, a dishwasher, big rotary hoe, Colwood Tiller, egg washer, mix-master for dough The Wrigley- a three wheeled cart, made carrying fun It was slow, very useful, and easy to run A milk separator, making butter with churning A Singer with zig-zag, a machine that did knitting A hot water coke-heater – lots of dust but saved money The time switch for lights, having bees for the honey If there was ever a minute she loved to unwind At her beloved piano, some respite she’d find. One sunny day in my memory is etched Mum would visit Gran Pearson – not really far-fetched Put the horse in the trap and off we went rocking But a train spooked the horse at Alberton crossing It went straight down the subway with the trap still attached It jammed at the entrance - the shaft just snapped. Encephalitis, measles, mumps and more babies Mum was so busy - wasn’t time to be lazy A broken arm at Grange slowed Muriel somewhat, Isy helped Mum through a pretty tough spot A wire machine was Peter’s invention The best thing to say – it wasn’t convention The house caught on fire, with an earthquake it shook Grace’s caravan hire, any size, just book Incubators for sale, raising turkeys and more Built on a new office, plucking room and store A bedroom or two, the ceiling tiles - lime green With alternate apricot stuck in between. Digging the garden and washing the eggs, Raking the cinders, plucking chooks, finding pegs It just wasn’t enough - Mum wanted to drive Her tutor was Peter – he thought he’d survive Mum lent hard left, turned the wheel sharp right Our lemon tree was crunched and Peter went white. Dad loved going to auctions and Mum went along too I think he’d seen many before I knew The croquet set - the first prize I recall With mallets and hoops, two posts and a ball How many played croquet with their Mum and Dad On their own moss lawn - but those bumps were bad With the youngest two kids they set off for Sydney But the Auburn’s big end wasn’t up to the duty To Grandpa’s A40 they swapped at Salt Creek They took off again but ran into a sheep Then when Jim got pneumonia and to hospital went They returned from Mount Gambier- gave up the attempt. Snatches of memory – wheat grinder, a hammer mill Mash mixer, battery brooder, chaffcutter, more still Shell grit heap, Whippet truck, chook pens with lights The compressor, the gravel, rat hunts and dog fights Testing chooks for Pullorum, Jim with ‘flash burns’ The switch was “all broke” his major concern. Three meetings on Sunday and more through the week Jim got Nephritis – orange juice – a cure unique In Rosetta Street subway, a car crash, a fight, Sleeping out on the lawn, playing nikki nikki night Growing gladies, huge picnics, playing tennis with kids. A steel deck side veranda staged a wedding for Is. It was time to move farms and so off they went searching We looked in Mt Pleasant and Meadows and Stirling Piccadilly was tiny but two farms offered there Dad bought them both – we began moving our fare But the Brand farm had problems – “fool of a man” All the junk that we’d moved there, we shifted again The house on the farm had walls two foot thick, There were not enough rooms, we just didn’t fit Mr Cook was the man – he’d done work before Three bedrooms, veranda, septic tank and what’s more Two bathrooms, a kitchen a pantry and loo A tank stand for pressure and a stove with a flue. Dad fixed up the dairy and farming began Broom bush and blackberries, bridges and dam The work was unending – was life really that full? Milking cows twice a day, and handling that bull Mylor church thrice a week was penance enough Three more trips to Adelaide – Dad’s driving –that’s rough Mum rolled with the punches, she just went on her way She built up the garden, killed weeds with her spray Then Tom got Arthritis – would he walk any more? Brethren said “city living” - that was the score So the farm was forsaken - they shifted again But you’d hardly believe what they did for work then. A nice house in Burnside seemed like a retreat But earning an income was to be the next feat Steel door frames were tried but they didn’t work Selling pikelets to shops was a very good lurk Adding home cooked donuts was the best idea The house stank, the clothes dripped - Mum shed not a tear. Dad worked like a madman and Mum worked as hard We drove round the suburbs - worked every yard The house was then altered so the business could cook But neighbours complained – they thought it was crook So a new house round the corner in Sydney Street With a few small changes - then things would be sweet. The pikelets had problems, but the donuts were good The new house was better – a factory soon stood All sorts of contraptions made cooking a breeze It was not like farming. It would never be ease A very bad crash on city’s North-Western corner Almost took Mum’s life and left Tom somewhat sorer But of all the horrors that one could describe There was one that changed life and was hard to abide For their family was ripped completely apart When a split in the church went right through their heart They would follow their God - but how could they cope? They lost children and friends and almost their hope From the dust and the ashes they dragged themselves up In no time at all Mum was hosting new stuff There were house meetings, parties, a home for her Dad Camping, grandkids and trips - but oh it was sad That two of her children never came home to roost Not even a call, not a word, they were lost. In one of those strange things that happen you see The farm they had owned was vacant and free They rented it first, then they bought it again It was like it had waited, been kept, just for them They shifted back up and were living aplomb The nightmare had passed and life had moved on After rolling the tractor down into the creek Dad taught Mum how to drive – took more than a week She was never a speedster, always quite timid But she pottered along – other drivers got livid This gave her some freedom – but learning was steep At sixty years old – t’was a wonderful feat Her cocky had sat on his perch near the house Mum would open the door and then she’d shout “Are you there Bill?” – and that cocky could too When he heard the door open – that was his cue It was sometimes quite hard –especially at night Was that Mum calling? - his sound was just right Good Friday 79 brought Mum dreadful news Dad was helping a widow with one of her moves And fell to the ground, his heart just stopped Her protector, her husband, her lover, her prop With no warning at all – from this life had passed For him no more struggling, it was rest at last Mum soldiered on with the farm on her own Her family helped, - there was never a moan For years she was there, the house by the creek The garden, the fences, the cows and the sheep The birds in the aviary, the lambs and the goat Her big rubber boots and her warm furry coat At the Unley Chapel she found a new church There were plenty of widows nursing their hurt They looked after each other – it was great to see They all knew just how hard the going would be In each other’s homes they often were found Laughing and joking and talking around One 83 summer morning the heat was intense Wind was ferocious – a fire she could sense She shut her cows in as the temperature soared Some family risked coming – hot the flames roared Some fences were burnt, the boundaries were crossed But no-one was hurt and no livestock was lost One day she was feeding the sheep with hay And the ram that she had, found her in the way He charged her full bore, she went down flat He broke her leg, knocked her right on her back Seven hour operation and screws and support Saw her leg repaired. The ram’s life was short. Mum was so full of old fashioned endeavour, She’d persist with her project no matter whatever. Her life was fulfilled by doing her chores Getting popular votes was never her cause A goodbye to her will always be tender Folks, that’s the Mum I want to remember
Posted on: Mon, 08 Jul 2013 06:54:11 +0000
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