Life on the Farm is Always Delicious

Mention memories of Summer and I immediately think of the Shearing Shed, Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top.

Never mind the beach holidays with my friend's family, days on end in my Grandparents swimming pool, or even holidays with my own kids!

My overwhelming association with Summer is the 2 weeks of Summer in the Shearing Shed almost every year for I don't even know how many years.

I remember in Primary School riding my bike over in my pyjamas to deliver "Smoko" (Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top) because my grandmother said "no one will notice". They all noticed.

I also remember turning 16 during shearing, when the Wool Classer gave me 16 perfect pink miniature roses from his garden. So sweet! Only slightly creepy.

Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top. Lamb casserole for lunch.

I remember coming home from Uni to find that shearing was almost over, and my brother had been doing my job. That hurt my heart. It was logical and necessary, but still…I looked forward to those 2 weeks every year. We had the same two shearers for most of my life, until 1 of them retired, and then the other died. He had high cholesterol.

Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top.

My Grandfather's 3000 odd sheep were shorn in that same shed every year. One year it was during winter because the Wool Classer, and some other people, convinced him that it was the snazzy new thing to do. He lost quite a few sheep that winter, and lambing didn't go well. Shearing returned to Summer, and took another year or two to recover the wool quality.

Even out of season, Smoko was the same:

Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top.

Although, the tea wasn't actually brewed in the Billy, it was made in a teapot in the Farmhouse kitchen, then poured into a Billy to transport it to the Shearing Shed.

That tea was brewed from "Robur" leaves in a stainless steel pot with a pretty engraved leafy pattern on it. I think the teapot might have been a wedding present to my Grandparents? The water was pumped to the house from a little man-made stream parallel to the road, called "The Race". (Maybe short for tailrace?) The tea was hot and strong, earthy and satisfying.

It went well with the dryness of the thick warm scones and the sweetness of the kiss biscuits. In summer heat, when the Shearers dripped sweat as they worked, it seems strange that they'd be drinking hot tea. But it was just the thing! A burst of caffeine and the soothing, comforting sensations of tea. The Shearers also had their own bottles of water, thick plastic in those days, filled from the tap at home, like kids took to school. Providing "Smoko" is part of the employment conditions of a Shearer in Australia. Either that or pay them extra.

My Grandmother would make kiss biscuits on Saturdays, then every morning whip up a batch of scones and put a casserole in the oven, before driving the half hour to teach Primary School all day. My Grandmother hated Shearing. I loved it and couldn't understand her lack of enthusiasm, until I was old enough to help with the cooking.

But one reason I loved shearing is because I got to CONSUME that Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top. I also got to spend all day near my Grandfather, who was incredibly placid and easygoing. I got to spend those two weeks with "Our" Shearers, who kindly tolerated a girl in the shed, even though it meant they weren't allowed to swear. I got to spend those two weeks with the sheep. As Roustabout my responsibilities included moving the sheep, counting the sheep and throwing the cut fleece onto the round classing table for examination. Done properly it's a bit like throwing a sheet up to spread on a bed, but better. Very satisfying.

Taking turns at the little sink in the corner to wash our hands before eating meant that as well as the Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top, there was the smell of yellow Velvet soap on my hands, adding extra flavour.

There were, of course, the accompanying smells of men's sweat, sheep manure, hot dry dirt and fresh cut, lanolin-y wool. These all mingled nicely with the Smoko food.

The only smell that might interfere with Smoko was the smell of maggots. A distinctive, awful, pungent smell. It was my job to deal with those too. Extra handwashing afterwards. Ewww!

So, while many of my summers have included fresh fruit, icecream, cold drinks, all sorts of wonderful dishes from many cultures, if you ask me what Summer tastes like, I'll tell you:

Billy tea, scones with butter, kiss biscuits with homemade raspberry jam in the middle and coconut stuck in the icing on top.