Farmer gets a wife

of 1978, country life, country wife, rural living, old homestead , stone cottage, visiting a farm with children, cookery the Australian way, scones

Impressions from my sister in law.
Memories of 1978.

#farmergetsawife
Agriculturalists gets a wife
City bride new to the country
City spouse new to the country
City girl marries her farmer
City miss weds her rancher

All of the above are depending on from where you live in this world.
Different expressions….same meaning

I married my beloved farmer or rancher as the Americans say. A young lady who lived nowhere near the country but by the sea. Near Semaphore in Adelaide, South Australia.

We had a four day honeymoon on Kangaroo Island, a remotish tourist destination where the only access was via a two hour ferry trip down the Port River and over the ocean. Being a roll on roll off ferry we were able to take our car to explore this rugged place.

On our return and in light of the fact that this boat berths unpleasantly early we sat in our car outside of my parents home waiting for them to wake up. Waiting for the household to show signs of stirring.

I was particularly looking forwards to seeing my mother; and which girl doesn’t!

Knowing likewise that I would not be seeing her again for quite a while to come.
A new country wife living a few hours away where distances are measure by time depending on the roads.

Well all this came to nought. No happy catch up time. No time for chit chat.

#farmergetsawife, country living,  country isolation, homesteading, memories of 1978

Country life line

Rather, a call had been received from my parents in law asking that we return to the farm property immediately for my husband to help with the grain cleaning. In those days you needed to wait having made a booking for a man to go to your property or ranch on a set day to do this job …well that time slot had come early!

So with my heart heavy we headed to my new life with dear husband who didn’t even have any work clothes with him. Fortunately there were some extra garments sitting at the main farm for him. Work boots, jeans or shorts, flannel shirt or T-shirt and the ever present hat of sorts.

As for me, after dropping my man off I proceeded down the white unsealed road with scrubby bush on either side, trusting that I would wind up at my new home, an old stone cottage with resident snake!

All roads here have a striking resemblance with each other to the uninitiated city folk….directions can go like this- go two Kms , then turn right and go another two Kms. At the telegraph pole turn right over the sheep grid and follow the road to the house. I must say it’s far easier to do in the day.

There was no new bride to be carried over the threshold. I ventured into our stone cottage myself.

#farmergetsawife, country living, country isolation, homesteading, memories of 1978, country life, country wife, rural living

of 1978, country life, country wife, rural living, old homestead , stone cottage

But I love our life here. Over the years we’ve lived in a few different houses. First was that stone cottage.

Now our son runs the farm with hubby working for him. New ways, new methods, new ideas, new generation, new energy, new grandsons.

Cycles of family life.

Alexa back here again.
Our cycles of life
The years roll by
Silently but ever moving

of 1978, country life, country wife, rural living, old homestead , stone cottage, visiting a farm with children

Our family visiting the Farm

Now I must search out that pastie recipe from an old school book when we did Home Economics at High School. My sister in law bakes an awesome one.
Best eaten on a cold day which is the opposite to what we have here presently in Australia. Summer heat waves. Yet I guess you could eat it with a salad.
I think I will wait though so that the oven does not over heat the already warm house.

What a pity I did not keep my copy when I culled all my books during our recent move. The modern copy is rather pricey now.
Live and learn.

Recipe of pasty…….
Page 7 of 8
“Cookery the Australian Way” 50 some years old and still serving and teaching our young.

Memories are the threads of life
A tapestry in the making

Alexa-asimplelife

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