One and One Make Five

One and One Make Five

Mavis Grant Gunter

One and One Make Five

Copyright © 2015 Mavis Grant Gunter

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

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A copy of this publication can be found in the National Library of Australia.

ISBN:978-1-742845-52-4 (pbk.)

Published by Book Pal

www.bookpal.com.au

Dedication

DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER AND FATHER

Without whom this book could not have been written

Cover image Painting of the Old House by Meta Henderson

Acknowledgement

THANK YOU to:

Margaret Geelan (nee Gunter) for her time to type and reorganise the whole book.

Beulah Gross whose advice I have always valued.

My sisters for their encouragement and not asking for too many alterations

My children and sisters for their patience

Roy Burke and the Advertiser for research

My memory

Preface

During the depression of the 1930’s the people who lived on small farms had often lost one or two homes through mortgage defaults. They were able to grow vegetables, fruit trees and keep a cow and chickens.

They helped each other by – not actually bartering – but giving milk when their cow went dry, or vegetables when they were in abundance.

Although they had little money they didn’t feel poor. They were worried about their day-to-day survival, yet were strong enough to know things would get better sooner or later.

The hollow-eyed, gaunt-cheeked families mainly lived in the city and struggled to survive.

Means of Survival

Wooden apple boxes, stacked on top of each other with the open end facing, were used as a wardrobe.

A ‘whatnot’ curtain across one corner of the room camouflaged ugly utensils.

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The women made their own bread, scones, cakes, jams, preservatives and pickles. Soups and stews were mostly from cheap cuts of meat or rabbits. The men shot the rabbits and could sell the skins for fur hats and coats.

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Vegetable scraps from the kitchen were given to the chooks with *

pollard and bran. Eggshells were crushed and given back to the chooks. Cow, horse and chook manure with leaf mould were dug back into the garden.

Chaff and wheat bags were washed and used as towels or protection from the rain, one corner tucked into the other bottom corner sat well on the head and protected the back. Embroidered flowers on chaff and flour bags also made pretty aprons.

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Serviceable mugs were made by cutting a strip of tin from one jam tin and soldering it as a handle onto another tin.

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Kerosene tins were cut open, flattened and used for walls. They were made into dishes to hold water for the animals, or basins for washing clothes. Handles could also be attached so they could be used as buckets.

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Socks were often hand knitted and darned on the heels and toes, under the ball of the foot, where it always wore thin.

Clothes were mostly hand-made and patched with the strong sections of other clothes. Hems were let down and lace or coloured binding used to cover the pale, worn strip, where the hem had been. The collars and cuffs of men’s shirts were removed and turned.

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The only affordable soap was Siren or Velvet bar soap. Velvet had five cakes joined so as to easily be broken into cakes. Sunlight came in one long bar, which often twisted and dried hard.

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The washing was boiled over an open fire, in a kerosene tin, when the temperature could be anywhere between 27⁰ Fahrenheit (-5⁰ C) in the winter and 110⁰ Fahrenheit (44⁰ C) in the summer. Poker sticks stirred the clothes which bubbled in the soapy water. They were then lifted into one of the two cement tubs for rinsing.

The clothes were wrung by hand, the sheets and towels curling up the arm and over the shoulder. They were then put into the second tub for rinsing in cold water and blue, from the ‘Reckitts blue bag’. Again they were hand wrung, and carried perhaps 100 yards (91.44m) or more, to the clothes line to be hung in the sunshine.

A long forked branch cut for a prop would be pushed against the wire clothes line which was usually strung from tree to tree. It was raised above the reach of animals. If it was raised too high it blew right over. Sometimes dragging the clothes in the dirt and they had to be rinsed again.

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Nugget or Kiwi shoe polish was used for leather shoes. Stove black was used to polish the fuel stove. Worn out clothes were used for cleaning and polishing.

The main ingredients needed for cleaning were Carbonate of soda, Vinegar, Kerosene, blue bags to whiten the clothes, Bees wax for the linoleum or floor boards. Blue bags were also used for bee stings.

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With a scrubbing brush, a bucket of water, soap and a rag, women on their hands and knees scrubbed the floors. They waited until it dried. On their hands and knees again they rubbed the bees wax onto the linoleum or bare boards, then polished it off with a clean rag, often pregnant with a 2 year old playing ‘horsey’ on their back.

Don’t laugh, I’ve done it!No need for exercise bikes.

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Petrol pumps were gravity fed. The petrol was pumped up by a handle into a clear glass area at the top of the pump until there was as much as needed. Then it flowed into the tank of the car.

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‘First Footing’:an old Scottish tradition. The ‘first foot’ for the New Year, foretells the future for that year so friends always visited carrying food, drink and good friendship, which meant of course a party. A tall handsome dark-haired man was the bringer of very good years.

Games

Favourite games were –

Marbles, hopscotch, hide and seek, cricket, vigaro/rounders, skipping (with one or two ropes), oranges & lemons and swings.

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‘Brandings’ – Where a group of boys and girls would each declare themselves to represent a country. One person in the middle of the circle would throw up the ball and call a country. The child who had chosen that country would catch the ball while the others ran. When the ball was caught all the others stopped and the child with the ball had to throw it and hit the nearest child.

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Girls keep the ball from the boys and vice versa – played like rugby only no scores counted and more fun.

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Climbing trees like monkeys and exploring the bush, horse riding, bike riding or walking (‘shanks pony’)

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Catching shadows – The intention was to sneak out in bright moonlight and chase each other around the paddock to stand on the other child’s shadow.

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The Family

The Farm in Grange Avenue: Five and three quarter acres at Marsden Park. An abundance of cats, dogs, chooks, two cows, two horses, pigs, one push bike and one 1930 Ford.

The House: Wattle and daub. The rooms built each side of a straight wall through from the front door to the back door: no hallway. It had two bedrooms, one lounge room, one kitchen/living room and verandahs on the front and back.

Ian Grant: Born in Scotland in 1897. The father, sole breadwinner, Government driver, physically and mentally strong, gentle, lived for his wife and children: spiritual.

Janet (Jenny) Grant: Born in Scotland in 1901. The mother; ran the farm, house and children, exceptionally intelligent, physically strong, a disciplinarian, lived for her husband and children: religious.

Pearl: First born, dark hair, rebellious, loved animals, strong, and fiery.

Marjory: (Meta) Second born; Fair-haired, slim, dreamy, artistic, loved music, art and beauty.

Johnny:Third born. He was physically strong, independent, brave, enjoyed building boats, mechanically minded: a leader.

Mavis: Fourth born, blonde, slim, shy, loved cats, stubborn, canny, idealistic, loved music and art.

Flora: Fifth born, blonde, sturdy, a dreamer, musical, artistic: religious.

Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgement

Preface

Means of Survival

Games

The Family

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Epilogue

Interesting Facts

Conversions

Chapter 1

An old French Vinot utility…a cold June night and a narrow corrugated road… frosty air circulating around the cabin; the smell of dust and gum leaves combined to sting the eyes and redden the cheeks and noses of the weary occupants.

A small beam of light from the six-volt battery of the Vinot utility making ghostly, grotesque images against the sky, flickering and threatening as they passed slowly into the night. The air was crisp and the stars bright and clear.

Fear of the unknown, poverty of material possessions, loneliness and total responsibility fell heavily on their shoulders, while the beauty of the bush and the moonlight filled their lives with hope for the future.

Ian Grant drove confidently, the road was not much more than a bush track, it was rough and rutted. He was moving his family into this area, two and a half hours drive from the city to where he owned a large shed on a five acre paddock, in Vine Street, Marsden Park, Australia. It was June 1932 and the bank had foreclosed on the mortgage on their home in the suburbs. Their future lay before them; he would face it head on.

Ian was short of stature, only five foot three inches (160cm) tall, of stocky build and 34 years old. What he lacked in height he made up for in strength; morally and physically. His children and his wife Janet (Jenny) were his whole world. Jenny had been his chosen wee lass since she was 12 years old; mind you she had kept him waiting with her engagement ring in his pocket until she was 21 years old. Jenny Grant although small and cultured was no delicate little flower either.

She watched his strong hands on the wheel and knew she would be safe in those hands. Life had not been easy, she had left her family to join his and trusted his judgement implicitly…yet…a strange empty feeling curled around her stomach, as she thought of the years ahead with no friends or family close by to help or advise her, and no medical aid within miles.

It seems much further tonight Ian. She couldn’t let him know her sick hunger of fear.

Don’t worry Jenny we’ll be looked after. It’s a beautiful night and that’s a good omen for the future.

We haven’t seen another soul for the past hour.

They’re probably all tucked up in their beds where we will be soon.

You’ll have about two and a half hours driving to and from work now, your shifts will seem so much longer.

That’s fine. I like driving and every turn is a turn for the better.

Sounds alright, Jenny laughed. But you have to take the right road.

We’re on the right road Jenny don’t you worry.

Thumps and giggles sounded from the back of the utility.

The kids seem happy, Jenny said.

This is their big adventure; they’re so excited they’ll never sleep.

They’ll sleep when they’re tired. They’re happy and that’s the main thing.

I’ll be glad when we get there Ian.

It won’t be long now.

Jenny was comforted by his gentle strength. He smiled as he looked at her, his dimples and laughing eyes enveloped her with the charm of his native Scottish Highlands.

The Vinot rattled through the darkness, while around the cabin swirled the freezing night air. Jenny tried vainly to wrap the jumping bundle on her lap in the warmth of a blanket. This restless little piece of humanity was Mavis, two years old and the youngest of her ‘capped volcanoes’. As they passed a small intersection, at Breakfast Street, just west of the Blacktown railway gates the road became stony and corrugated like petrified ocean waves. The tar-sealed road had ended; they were really in the bush now. The tarpaulin covering the back of the utility flapped and bulged. From under it poked a small black and tan nose. The little pup didn’t see a great deal before a child’s hand no bigger than his head grabbed and pulled him back into the laughter and confusion, for under the tarpaulin were three more children bursting with excitement, one tabby cat and Towser, the new cross breed pup.

The wind, darkness and noise stirred them all to exhilaration unknown in suburban life. Pearl, aged nine years, dark haired and volatile, tried vainly to keep order adding mostly to the jostling bodies.

Meta, slim and fair bumped about quietly in a corner nursing the cat, she was a little afraid herself being only seven years old. So cuddling Tibby and watching Pearl enjoy every minute helped dispel her fear.

Falling and rolling on his fat little tummy with Towser, was Johnny aged four years, a sturdy little silver blonde, laughing as he tried to stand and equally happy as he fell.

A loud rapport echoed through the frozen night. Leaning heavily on one side the Vinot limped to the edge of the road. Ian got out raked in the darkness among kids and animals for the tyre levers and the jack and on the edge of that stony road he lifted the utility. The tyre and tube were both ruined. A hole had blown clear through the side; what a pretty kettle of fish! There he was in the freezing cold with a car load of kids, in the bush, with no spare tyre and tube. Not to be outdone he decided to bind the tyre and tube to the wheel with fencing wire. It would be a bit rough but would get them to Marsden Park and not do too much damage to the wheel and rim. Well now that’s fine, but where do you find a piece of wire where the fences are almost non-existent and the edges of the road are overgrown with small scrub.

As always in their times of trouble the answer appeared. A long strand on the side of the road would have tripped him as he dragged his feet in the long grass if his movements had not been slow and deliberate.

Ian Grant struggled with the wire, binding and straining, pulling this way and that, twisting and hammering. Ringing into the night air went the sound of metal to metal as he worked. He needed all the strength in his short thick arms. He was a man seldom driven to anger so with great patience he worked steadily as he answered his children’s unending questions.

From the darkness came the angry form of a farmer.

Hey mate! What the hell do you think you’re doing, you’ll wake the dead. Gawd, a bloke can’t sleep with that racket going on. He took one look at the old Ute bulging with kids and animals.

Struth, what makes you think you’re going anywhere in that old jalopy.

Ian knelt with the wheel in his hands, looked with pride at his Ute and children.

She’s a good old job, she’s taken us thirty miles (48.28032km) already and won’t let us down.

Ha! Ya won’t make it mate ditch the bloody thing, that’s my advice.

The stubborn Scot kept pulling the heavy wire straining to the utmost. The farmer put his hands on his hips and shrugged his shoulders.

OK, maybe you’ll make it. God knows how you’ve made it this far seeing he could either help or endure the noise, he gave in. Anything I can do? and he pitched in to help.

When the wheel had been bolted back onto the axle and the Ute sank onto its bandaged tyre the farmer shook the friendly hand outstretched to him.Good luck mate I hope you get there.

Then shaking his head at the sorry sight he said at least get far enough down the road to wake some other poor bloke from his sleep. He ambled away into the darkness.

Ian and Jenny, with their overloaded and bandaged Ute arrived safely around 11pm that night.

This was the only alternative to a life of hardship in the suburbs. They had no money for visible status symbols – but poor, they were not! They believed to feed and educate healthy children was preferable to keeping up with outward appearances.

Chapter 2

The move had been primarily caused by the depression of the 1930’s. The choice they had was to stay with a large mortgage and perhaps lose everything, deprive the children of food and clothing, or move to the bush and live off the land. Ian found increasing difficulty in maintaining the payments on the brick house in Homebush and providing a respectable standard of living. Their health also suffered from the suburban environment. All the family contracted every passing virus or infection. Jenny was desperate to escape.

The shed and land were beautiful to Ian. He saw it’s potential. Each weekend he had gone to Vine Street and worked to prepare for his family’s arrival. He had fenced the paddock, bought a big grey horse called Big Jack from the Homebush Abattoirs, a cart and plough and a shorthorn cow named Bridget.

The land sloped gradually to the west where a creek ran through the side fence. The soil, deep and rich, turned chocolate brown on the curve of the plough as the birds followed along the furrows picking the grubs and insects provided for them effortlessly.

Ti-trees lined the creek giving shade to the animals and a haven for the mischievous Magpies.

Chapter 3

The morning dawned cold. Moisture dripped from the iron roof making damp hollows in the dirt floor. Jenny surveyed the partly built shed. On one side flattened kerosene tins; on two sides hessian bags were opened out to form the walls and one side remained open. A stove, a bed and kerosene tins for carrying water from the creek, and a tub for washing completed the furnishings. Although cold and draughty the shed proved to be quite adequate.

The sun pierced through holes in the hessian sides of the shed, warming to wakefulness the four young bodies rolled in a blanket. Pearl being the first to awaken roused the others; they must see everything. It was beautiful. The grass was white with frost beneath her feet and the fences spiked with ice along the railings. They walked gingerly at first; their bare feet unused to the cold, then feeling a freedom unknown before, threw out their arms and ran with the exhilaration of young animals free from their cages.

Towser joined the game, his paw marks making irregular green patterns in the frost, beside the small bare feet marks of the children. He too felt the crispness of the air and the freedom of space. They ran excitedly back to the shed with their wet feet and grass clinging as high as their knees and their red toes wriggling with anticipation.

Jenny cooked breakfast on the fuel stove. She called their children and they came reluctantly from their games. Pearl ran to her.

Mum did you see me?

Yes darling, you must be hungry, come inside for your breakfast.

Watch me. I can tumble over and over five times. She proceeded to do just that.

Meta and Johnny followed.

Come on now Pearl your breakfast will get cold.

They all scrambled beside her into the shed, where they sat at a makeshift table and ate heartily, the cold fresh air whetting their appetites.

Seeing the enchantment on their eager faces, Jenny and Ian exchanged glances and were warmed by the knowledge that their decision to move was correct.

After breakfast Ian rose from the table anxious to be outside in the brisk morning air.

Jenny, come and we’ll feed Big Jack and you can try your hand at milking Bridget.

I can’t come yet Ian, I’m busy. Nerves tied knots in her stomach as she gained time by washing dishes.

Come on now, Ian knew her delaying tactics.

She’s a quiet cow, there’s no need to worry, and I know you can do it.

I’ve never milked a cow in my life and I don’t know the first thing about them, I’ll come later. She didn’t tell him