Last Thursday evening 25th August, my writer's group, the South Side Quills, launched their first anthology, "The Runaway Quill", at the Bunbury City Library. The anthology has been a labour of love for us over several years to reach this point. A few of us had had a small insight into the publishing world previously, but for most of us it was new to us. What a huge learning curve it was with writing, editing, reediting, finding a publisher/printer (no they are not the same thing...), proof reading.... We could hardly believe that the night of the book launch had finally arrived.
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| South Side Quills. That's me second from right. |
I have several pieces published in the book and my images are on the front and back cover. So today, instead of continuing with stories from our recent Kimberley trip, I am going to share with you here the short piece that I read at the book launch - Bilbarin Morning. This piece is close to my heart, as my mother spent her early years in the tiny wheatbelt siding town of Bilbarin, north of Corrigin in the central Western Australian wheatbelt. Those were tough years..... My Mum passed away in 2012 but in her memoirs she wrote....
My early years were the humblest of beginnings near Bilbarin "in the bush". Our home was a tent-cum-shack My mother has told me it was the hardest time of her life before and immediately after I was born (1924). She knew what it was like to be really hungry and went without herself for the children. There was no fresh milk, fruit or vegetables, and meat was probably rabbit, kangaroo and even parrot.
When I was two or three we moved to the siding town of Bilbarin where my father John, who was called "Jack" by many people, had built a cottage with a dirt floor, walls of corrugated iron and bush timer, cut on the property, corrugated iron roof, and white washed hessian linings. We had one small rain water tank. Two soaks produced fresh water which could be used for washing, but also to water a beautiful vegetable and flower garden.
....My brother Phil, born in 1927 in Corrigin, was closest to me in age, so we played a lot together. At Bilbarin there were trees and scrub up the back end of the paddock, and we played there. We got big sticks to ride, pretending they were horses. Down the front of the property a gully ran when it rained.... We played in the gully and dug out frog's holes to get to the eggs right down the bottom.....
.....We had a horse called Daisy. She was very very quiet. She had been a baker's horse in Narrogin before we got her.
... At Bilbarin there was a one teacher school within close walking distance. Miss Laurie Jeffrey was my first teacher.
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| Bilbarin Sunday School, circa 1929. My mother is the small girl standing in the centre, in the light coloured coat, next to Mrs Smith. |
My story - Bilbarin Morning - come's purely from my imagination but based around that time in the late 1920's early 1930's. I share it with you here....
BILBARIN
MORNING
by Jill Harrison
A wild wind whips across the yard scattering leaves in
devilish dance, battering a
loose piece of tin on the roof and whistling through a crack in the sapling
walls of the hut. Tendrils of golden
morning light seep thinly through the trailing branches of the peppermint
trees. It bursts through the door as we
tumble out onto the verandah in a blur of coats and scarves. Icy water baubles
clinging in wait for us on the eaves release themselves as we bound down the
steps. The ground crunches noisily under our boots like a military tattoo. The gate clatters behind us.
Daisy stamps impatiently in her stall. Her hot breath swirls around her like
a smoky wreath. She thrusts her head into the stream of grain spilling into the
feed bin.
Dry wheat stalks whip against our legs as we run across the stubble
paddock. Through the stringy gimlet
trees, jumping the gurgling water in the gully, pushing our way through the
scrub. A kangaroo bounds away into the
mist. Red gum flowers are bursting from their cups and we stop to pick a spray for
Miss.
The clanging bell calls out to us across the dusty school yard. The welcoming
warmth of the fire in the stove as we slide into our desks and pull out our
books.
Miss smiles at us, absorbing the
perfume of the bush as she arranges the flowers in a jar on the window sill.
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| Red gum flowers are bursting from their cups |
I hope you have enjoyed my little vignette "Bilbarin morning". If you would like to buy a copy of "The Runaway Quill" please let me know. They are for sale for $20 plus postage.
Thank
you so much for stopping by. I value your comments and look forward to
hearing from you. I will try to visit your blogs in return. Have a
wonderful week.
You might also like -
The life of women in Australia's past
Walking down memory lane
Spring in the Western Australian wheatbelt
I
am linking up to the link-ups below. Please click on the links to
see fabulous contributions from around the world - virtual touring at
its best!
Mosaic Monday
Life Thru the Lens
Lifestyle Fifty Monday Linkup
Our World Tuesday
Through My Lens
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| Pepper and Salt |
Image-in-ing
Wednesday Around the World at Communal Global
Worth Casing Wednesday
Travel Photo Thursday
The Weekly Postcard
Some more flowers from the Western Australian bush nearly Harvey this past weekend.
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| Myrtle |
