#52Ancestors, Week 39, On the Farm

There were lots of farms in different branches of my family. Sheep farmers, dairy farmers and orchardists. I remember going to visit some of Dad’s aunts who lived on farms near Hamilton, but only to visit for afternoon tea, on our best behaviour.

In February 1965 my grandmother remarried, to a farmer from Southland who had been a bachelor up until then. They had met on a cruise which Nana had gone on with a couple of her sisters and their husbands – part of a group of members of Federated Farmers. (Hope I have these bits right).

 

 Anyway, after they married Nana moved with Bert to his farm at Spar Bush, near Invercargill. SO far away from her family, sisters, nieces, nephews, sons and grandchildren. We stayed in contact by writing letters – well Mum and Dad did more than us. We also used to record our news on to Dad’s reel to reel tape recorder and they’d be packaged up and posted to Nana – then we would get one in return from her.

In December 1965, we left on the biggest school holiday trip we had ever had. I am sure I remember coming home from school and Mum was packing the car, shoving bits into little nooks and crannies. I think it might have been raining. I can’t remember though whether we left after Dad came home from work and drove to Whakamaru to stay with Nana and Grandad, or whether we left really early the next morning. I do remember though, that we stopped for a breakfast picnic by the side of Lake Taupo; at Mission Bay. Was this the time Dad forgot to pack his razor ? Or did Mark forget his jammies ?

Anyway, we went all over the place – we had Christmas in the snow at Milford Sound, and then went and stayed at Nana and Bert’s farm. I don’t remember too much about the operation of the farm at all. There was milking happening in the cowshed next door, on a farm run by one of Bert’s grand nephews. Their son Robert used to come to see us when he didn’t have work to do around the farm. His parents – or perhaps the people on the next farm – had Shetland ponies which I remember going to see one afternoon.

There was a monster vegetable garden, and sheep and cattle. And the kitchen seemed enormous with windows looking out to the farm and the morning sun pouring in.

Bert had a sheepdog, Tip. I suspect from other holidays there that there were different dogs, but they all seemed to be called Tip. Bert could whistle instructions to him so that he would round up the sheep and direct them to the paddock or pen that he wanted them to move to. There was a fluffy cat too – named Fluffy. She seemed to have kittens in tow each time we visited.

 One night a bull got through the gate and into the vegetable garden. I remember a bit of consternation among the adults, but he was steered back to the correct paddock and the beans and peas were a little worse for the wear on inspection in the morning.

So there you have it – on the farm. There is probably more, but it is all a bit muddly in my memory so I will need to spend some time getting it all into chronological order for another time.