This is the house I grew up in, on a farm called Misery. The tin room you can see behind me was the kitchen. Nine kids, plus Mum and Dad, lived in this old hut. The house only had two other rooms—Mum and Dad's bedroom and the dining room. Us kids slept on the dining room floor till there was too many of us to fit. Then Dad built an open verandah out the front. It had a concrete floor and a sheet of tin at either end. The front was open so we made blinds out of flour bags to hang down in the winter time when it was cold. There was no electricity or running water but my memories of the place are some of the best memories I've got. I'd go back to that life tomorra if I could. - Jack Turner
4 Comments
Leslee Anne Hewson
9/27/2013 02:15:33 pm
I look forward to reading Jack's story, I imagine he has a good few yarns to tell.
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Sharon McCullagh
9/29/2013 06:35:45 am
Very interesting reading ! Reminds me of the tales my grandparents told me when pop was sheep shearing out west, very similar surroundings and the many kids in a small tent. Looking forward to reading more about Jack and his life.
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10/1/2013 03:23:31 pm
Jack sounds like a lovely man, great to see this blog. A wonderful way to use technology to make sure these important tales don't get lost.
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Lesley Foster
11/3/2013 06:56:49 pm
Interesting reading, makes me want to read more about his interesting and unusual life.
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