My daughter was showing me photos the other day of our trip to Rylstone and visit to Misery. I can't believe it's been five years since I last saw Misery Farm. The old house was still standing but like me it's falling down in places. It had been a long time before that since I'd last set foot on Misery. In 1981, me, and two of me brothers, took Dad's ashes back to Misery. We scattered them out on the flat on Anzac Day. Dad was from the bush. He was born in the area and lived there most of his life. Even after we moved up to Queensland in 1956, Dad kept going back down to Rylstone, shearing and rabbiting, until well into his seventies. It was in his blood I s'pose. He belonged down there so we took him back. I'd like to go back and see Misery again. Hopefully before I'm ashes, I'd enjoy it more that way. I'd like to walk on the flat, stand in the old house one more time and stare up at Crown Mountain, cos I reckon me heart, like Dad's ashes, will always be on Misery.