In drought years the water in the rain tanks was nil or just kept for drinking only. Water had to be carted in small tanks from the hay shed – they were pulled on a wooden sled by two draught horses. We had no water laid on and often when the hay shed tanks were dry Dad put galvanised iron in the creek bed to hold any water which seeped into it. This water was carried up to the house and heated in kerosene tins on the double range stove for our bath. We all bathed in the same tub of water, using home-made bar soap – what a luxury it was to have a cake of Velvet or Sunlight soap.
Many a time I remember being hurried out of school by men from the top paddocks telling us to hurry home as the creek was rising. It seemed strange to me as the creek bed was completely dry and we hadn’t had a drop of rain Actually there had been a cloud burst up in the mountains – the creek would often run a banker within an hour or so. I can recall being taken home by horses swimming the creek – Dad or another station worker would be holding us tightly.
We had no electricity – just a wooden stove with a big fountain and kettle which provided us with boiling water. Kerosene lamps were used for lighting – how I hated trimming wicks and cleaning the globes, also blacking the stove. Pott’s irons were first used for ironing – when we got a petrol iron it was heaven. All washing was done by hand – no wringers etc. – the wood copper boiled away as early as 5.30 am. Clothes were always hung out to dry on wire lines held up with a clothes prop. Unfortunately, they often broke or slipped, letting the wet clothes fall in the dirt – all had to be washed again. Monday was always wash day.
We were never allowed to see a newspaper. Mum and Dad used to go to Gran’s cottage to read the papers which were sent over from Uncle Fred’s. Our only books were given as school prizes – but oh, how I loved to sit over in the galvanised “dunny” and look at the shiny papered catalogues which used to come from stores in Sydney. By the way – the pages out of the catalogues was our dunny paper.
Most of the men on the station were paid quarterly – I was never told how much. Any bills, etc. were settled when the men were paid. People were self-supporting in a way – we grew our own vegetables, had poultry, plenty of eggs, Dad had plenty of honey. Mum and Gran did up preserved fruits – jams, pickles, chutney, sauce etc. so we only had to buy a few items – ie. tea, sugar, coffee, rice etc. Mum was an excellent cook – she made beaut bread, buns etc. We were supplied with a side of mutton twice a week and sometimes the station would kill a bullock (winter only). It was dressed, draped in clean, white sheets and hung up in a tree at Uncle Fred’s place – usually when there was a frost to set the carcass before being cut up and divided among the men. Dad milked three or four cows before breakfast – I liked to do the separating and making of the butter.
At harvesting and shearing times the men were off to work early and didn’t come home till dark. Before machinery, the clydesdales were in great demand. Dad used to look after them. My youngest sister Peggy and myself had to have their “nose bags” filled with a special mixture and the horse rugs ready for Dad when he came in. If a rug was missing we had to go out to the paddock and find it. Dad oiled and repaired all the harness. There were three old stone and mud stables at “Tareela” where feed (huge wooden casks of molasses) and harness drays, carts, etc. were kept.
During the Depression, men often passed our place humping their “Bluey” – we thought they were “bad swagmen”. We used to dash off to the “old tin dunny” and lock ourselves in until they’d crossed the creek and gone.
There was a “rabbit drive” one year. We kids had fun hunting the bunnies into an enclosure where they were shut in and slaughtered. Skins were turned inside-out and put on wires to dry. Some carcasses were brought home and boiled up for the dogs.
School days were happy – we liked it in winter as we had a big open fire – not too good when it smoked. Our Christmas break-up day was always a happy event. All and sundry came to help celebrate – quite a feast day. We held a concert each Christmas break-up as well – a huge Christmas tree with presents and prizes. Our local teacher did a mighty job helping us learn our parts.
One year, people came from town and we had to seat them outside and we used the verandah of school for the stage. We led a very sheltered life – almost to the point of being what I understand now as “being environmentally retarded”.
Voting days always puzzled me. When I asked my parents what they did I was told, ‘We climb a greasy pole.’ Stupid me, I believed them but later couldn’t figure out why they never came back to us with grease on their clothes. We were kids to be seen, and no questions asked. But despite all this we were happy in ourselves, kept warm and well fed.
Bales of wool and bags of wheat were loaded onto the wagon and taken into Barraba to be railed to Sydney. I don’t know how long it took for the trip – poor old horses.
I have been back to “Tareela” on a couple of occasions – our old school was still standing. Our house in a mess – electricity had been installed and a septic toilet put near the wash house. A windmill was in the area we used as Gran’s flower garden. It looked as though they had sheep housed in the house. Water had been connected to the kitchen.
I left “Tarcela” when I was 12 years old to go to High School in Tamworth.
In the earlier days there were no unions – men went to work sometimes seven days a week during harvesting. They left before sun-up and got home at dark – no one complained that I know of. They worked hard and long hours – no overtime, just did what they had to do – and the children did what they were told or else!
We used to swim in the creek during summer – if any water holes could be found. My grandma made us four girls a one-piece swimsuit each out of her old cut up lisle stockings – we thought they were grand. Our everyday dress was blue/white or red/white check. The boys had shirts and khaki bib-and-brace overalls with long legs. When the boys put the knees out of them they were cut off and the girls wore them as what they once called “hot pants”. These outfits would cost around two shillings and sixpence.
We did get a new dress to wear to the show – one of our only outings. We never went on a holiday and I can’t remember anyone getting holidays, apart from Good Friday, Christmas Day and New Year’s Day.
Our parents were our own doctors. They treated everything and anything – we were never taken to a doctor when sick. Whooping Cough was treated with a concoction made up using prickly pear – wish I had the recipe. Honey and sulphur was used for blood disorders.
Bread and onion poultices were used to draw out foreign bodies, even if we had red streaks up our legs. Kerosene on sugar was used for sore throats. What a blessing when the Rawleigh’s man called and we could get everything for our needs.’