“They’re here! They’re here!” the children chime as they race around to the back of the house. A Ute slowly comes to a dusty halt and the doors instantly fly open.
Barefooted children crowd around as the passengers slide out, some from along the back of the seat, others pop up from under the feet of the adult traveller. The air is filled with squawks of joy and short greetings of “what took you so long”, “we have been here for ages”, “we couldnt start until you got here”. Read More
My dad is celebrating his birthday. No great ‘landmark’ birthday ending in a zero or a five, but he reckons any year after 70 is worth applauding. My father is, I think, a classical Australian country man. The red earth of the property he was born flows in his veins, and will forever more. The saying “You can take the man out of the country but you will never take the country of out the man” springs to mind when I think about my dad. Read More
As cousins jostled for the best position in the back of Grandad’s blue Chrysler ute the uncles in the cabin scanned the paddocks for stray sheep. The black, white and tan dogs kept the main mob together and gently worked them down past the dam to the sheep yards nestled in the valley.
Amid so many cousins together (there were over 30 of us in total) there was an air of fun and mischief. The older ones got to ride the tailgate at the back, daring each other to jump on and off the moving vehicle until Grandad would yell out “Either stay on or get off and walk home you lot”. Read More