Anticipation

My fathers figure looked large standing in front of the sliding glass doors to our dining room. He was looking out towards the paddocks of our property, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders shrugged upwards slightly. You could feel the anticipation of the temperature running through his body. It was COLD!! Not just a little bit cold, it was “bloody freezing” according to my Dad. I stood up and walked over to the glass sliding doors and took in the view in front of me.

Under the early morning sun the paddocks were shining like sparkly white crystals caused by the previous nights heavy frost. The sound of the blow heater on full throttle humming in the background and Mum in the kitchen making us breakfast, the aroma of reheated food from the night before complimented the setting. Everything combined made that moment appear more magical.

"How cold do you reckon it is Dad?" I asked with curiosity. "Probably less than zero" he replied. I felt a flutter of excitement, today could be the day. Mum called us into the kitchen to sit around the little table set against the wall. We sat on plastic round stools and couldn't wait to devour the food Mum placed before us. Left-overs were like a slice of heaven in my eyes.

We didn't share a lot of meals around that table. This was due to the fact that space was required for something much more important and beneficial to the whole family. It was a dishwasher!!! The time I would gain by not having to wash up was unimaginable. As I finished my breakfast my feet were itching, I needed to get moving, the day ahead of me held so much potential. The added bonus, it was a weekend, could it be any more perfect? Not in my eyes, not that day.

Mum was a stickler for rituals in those days so before we could leave the house there were specific requirements that had to be met. Bedroom had to be tidy, bed made, chores done, teeth brushed (I was sketchy on that one) and depending on what day of the week it was we would be required to strip the linen from our beds to be washed, wet dust or vacuum. I personally loved the regimental nature of that existence.

Once all of my chores were completed I opened my wardrobe door and blankly looked at the pile of clothes that lay at the bottom. For a brief moment I wished that I had put the clothes away that Mum had so carefully ironed only a day before. As I began sifting and sorting through the clothes the words "bloody freezing" filled my head. I would definitely need an under-shirt on today.

I dressed, closed the wardrobe door and went into the laundry. I hoped in silence that I had taken my gumboots off in there. The thought of having to put on cold and damp gumboots before stepping out into sub zero temperatures was too much to bare.

Dad, my sisters and I left the house wearing our warmest clothes. Our fleecy woollen jackets, scarfs and beanies were all courtesy of our Nans handiwork. The wool came off the backs of the sheep Dad farmed. At shearing time he would set aside the nicest fleeces for Nan to spin on her beautifully crafted spinning wheel and then knit the spun wool into clothes for us. The black fleeces were saved for special jumpers for Dad, always.

We walked across the crunchy, slippery white frosted lawn. Brrrr it was freezing!!!! As we climbed into the Land Cruiser we all prayed that the diesel hadn't frozen overnight in the tank. As Dad turned the key to kick the engine over there were a few splutters. Phew! At least the fuel was getting to where it needed to go and not frozen.

I felt so happy as I thought about the drive ahead of us for more than one reason. My primary reason for this happiness was that I had nabbed the middle seat of the truck. No gate opening for me that morning. I did a mental head count as to how many gates my younger sister had to open. There used to be 8 gates between our house and the destination. Due to the newly installed animal grid between the house and the shearing shed today she would only be hopping in and out of the truck 7 times on the way there. That animal grid was almost as welcomed as the new dishwasher, almost.

On the drive Dad joked about life and regaled us with stories of how he had not only dug the oceans with his blue Leyland tractor, but according to him he had also carted water and salt to this ocean using empty beetroot tins as his vessel!!! Amazing! Of course we didn't believe him but we let him think we did.

We drove across a flat, ploughed paddock and in front of us surrounded by trees was our final destination. The excitement and anticipation was almost too much. When the truck came to a complete standstill we all hopped out.

I glanced up to the sky to see how high the sun was positioned. We didn't have all the time in the world here. I ran and slid across the grass to the edge of the frozen icy pond and stopped. Dad took a few careful steps onto the edge of the ice. YES, it was frozen solid and definitely safe to walk on. Our gumboots became imaginary ice skates and our adventure began. The anticipation was over.