Sunday Night Rewind

{For this Rewind, I'm actually posting two posts which were originally published 23 and 26 September, 2009. These posts are favourites of mine with these old photos of our farm, even more significant to me now that we are here. It was also these photos themselves which inspired me to take more photos. It was a few months after these posts when Adam bought me a "proper" camera for my birthday and it kinda got stuck to my nose from then on.}


Family Album, part one

As you know, I love photos. I love taking them, I love looking at them, don't particularly love being in them.

There was a photographer called Ray Henning who was a friend of my Dad's many years ago. He was an amateur photographer and we are uber lucky that he took his camera and caught many photos of Dad, his brother, their Dad, the farm, in ways that without Ray Henning we never would have seen.

Long live the photographer.


Dad on top, Uncle Doug strapping the load, Grandpa heaving the bail. 1959.

Dad foxground

Dad waving, Grandpa driving. Foxground, circa 1959.

Grandpa walkers

Grandpa, sewing or fertilizing? Walker's farm. Buena Vista on the hill behind him.

Dad dairy

Dad, having afternoon tea, looking out of the door of the dairy (at his dog, he said.) May, 1960.

Getting out my camera. Taking more photos. 




Family Album Part 2

Three more from the wonderful Ray Henning, giving us glimpses into moments we wouldn't otherwise see.

Hauling hay

He's written on the back of this one: Hay Making. Sunday 6 December 1959. 

Dad, Uncle Doug and Grandpa. And what would have been a beloved dog, out the front. 

Have you ever hefted a bail of hay? They're really not light at all. First week in December. Hot. A Sunday. Rest day for bankers. If it rains on your hay after you've cut it, before you get it into the hayshed, it can, and frequently does, self combust. Not ideal. So you make hay while the sun shines, you know?


Grandpa. Same day (photo is dated). Same shirt. Pretty happy looking. Perhaps he quite liked Ray Henning because really why would you look so cheerfully at a dude wandering around with a camera, not sweating and not heaving bails? 

I love this photo of Grandpa. 

I never got to meet him. His big heart gave out before I was born. 

So we pore over photos of him, trying to piece together the bits people remember, the stories Dad tells, the farm he left behind, trying to find him. 

He look so much like Dad, without a beard. Therefore he must have been excellent.


Cool old tree, huh?

It's still there:


Garages and chook shed come and go, trees remain. 

Ever planted a tree for posterity? 

Mine are in Brisbane. Maybe I should plant one in Sydney. What about you?

{Update Sunday 23 October 2011: Planted a lemon tree in Sydney before we left. Now about to plant three hundred coffee trees here on this family farm of ours. Farmers and family come and go, trees remain. Long live The Farm.}

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