Fond Memories of Quality Time with My Father on the Farm

Growing up on a wheat and sheep farm in Western Australia, my childhood was filled with simple and memorable moments that have stayed with me all these years. These experiences not only shaped my character, but also deepened the bond between me and my father. This article explores some of the best memories of spending quality time with him during my pre-teen years.

Growing Up on the Farm

My pre-teen years were spent on a wheat and sheep farm in Western Australia. One of the best things about growing up there was the abundance of outdoor activities. We had a lot of fun moving sheep from one paddock to another, often with our dog. We also enjoyed mushrooming and collecting mallee roots, which we used to fuel our homemade water heater.

Outdoor Adventures and Family Activities

We would ride on the back of the old truck, and on hot days, we would swim in a paddle pool on the lawn. Sometimes, we would also swim in the concrete tanks while Dad was checking the troughs. We would also go to a local river for swims and fun chimes where we would cut slices of watermelon for a refreshing treat. Our mother would cut the fruit, and we would enjoy its sweet taste on a balmy evening.

Another cherished activity was cycling. We learned to ride bikes with Dad pushing us until we could balance and pedal without falling off. This playful yet challenging activity was both instructional and fun. We would also explore a small house paddock by burying old powered milk tins as holes for a makeshift golf course, where we would play and enjoy each other's company.

Shearing and Other Family Experiences

We would help in the shearing shed, and as a young child, I remember falling asleep in a wool bale. Thankfully, I did not get the next fleece dumped on me, which would have compressed me into the bale! Each of us was given a bag to collect all the wool scraps from the shearing shed, which we would take to town and sell to earn money for Christmas presents. I once bought a book, which my older brother found amusing because he didn't like books!

We would often walk a few hundred meters into the bush to help Dad with his rubbish heap. We would find various items and laugh at Mom's old shoes that had become distorted. Nearby, there was a quondong tree, whose fruit was always bitter and unpleasant. During Christmas time, we would chop a small pine tree and decorate it with homemade ornaments. Sometimes, Dad would play his button accordion and sing songs, like "Click goes the Shears," which everyone knew the lyrics to.

Memory Highlights and Farm Life

A particularly fond memory was using 44-gallon drums as sleds and racing each other. Dad would also put us into tractor tires and roll us alongside the farm. This activity was fun and engaging, but it was best suited for children aged 7 to 8, as we grew too big after that.

When we got a television in 1969, we needed a tall antenna on the roof, which attracted Galahs, our local bird. Unfortunately, their roosting behavior gave us poor reception and dirtying our roof with droppings. To protect the antenna, Dad got a shotgun, which served its purpose effectively. We learned to drive as soon as we could reach the pedals, even if it was just in first gear.

Dad would sometimes kill a sheep on a cool afternoon. We never watched the actual killing, but we were fascinated by the process. He would prepare the carcass and then chop it up with the same tomahawk we used to cut the tree. We learned about various tools and equipment, and Dad had a 22-caliber rifle he used to hunt rabbits, foxes, emus, and kangaroos. He would sometimes let us try shooting at targets, and I remember one particular target being a Sunshine milk tin lid attached to a tree.

Life on an Off-Grid Farm

We lived off the grid before it was trendy. We had a diesel generator that needed cranking, and my Dad could not do it. I learned to do it at age 12, as my older brother had moved to boarding school due to lack of nearby secondary schools. If Dad was working late, we used old-fashioned lanterns until he returned home to start the engine.

The farm was quite remote, so we received mail twice a week via truck. Our mail box was an old, cleaned-out grease tin welded onto metal legs, and we got a crate of seasonal fruit and vegetables delivered from the city approximately once every fortnight. Bread was delivered twice a week along with the mail and local newspaper.

We were quite isolated, and our water came from a roof catchment system. Despite the challenges, this life taught us the value of independence and hard work. It also created strong bonds with our family and community.

We moved to the city of Perth when I was 14, but the memory of our farm life and the special relationship with my father remain vivid. My father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer at the age of 80 and passed away less than a month later. He was a special, funny, humble, and very clever person with a gentle disposition and a rational approach to life. These memories of quality time spent with him are cherished deeply.

These stories highlight the joy and value of simple things in life and the importance of family and community bonds. As someone who grew up on a farm, I have so many fond memories that I can't choose a favorite. To me, they are all equally important and meaningful.