Venturing out to the Devine Farm "Tundabardi" (aboriginal for "cold place", and Devine being my mother's maiden name) was a very meaningful trip for me. I don't know what it is about stepping into places where your parents hung their hats and bunked out growing up, but it has always charmed me.
When I visited Australia back in 2009 my hope was to gather family stories and dip into places like this farm, but I was either to shy or to young to really assert and go through with those desires. Probably both. Having a child has somehow pulled me out of my pod and this is becoming the trek 2009 was supposed to be. My mom grew up simply in a small fort. Shed more like. Tin shed. Did I say it was small? I looked at that tiny pop top of a structure and couldn't imagine my Grandparents plus my mom and her 3 other siblings squeezing in. Somehow they managed and never felt like they didn't have enough room.
The family who lives there now remember my Grandpa Rex and spoke very highly of him and the work he put into all the original structures on the farm (which are still there and in near perfect condition to this day). We were able to watch the sheep come in just as my mom would have done while she was living here and have lunch with Deb, Gary, and their daughter Vivian.Tomatoe and onion, carrot and peanut butter, and curried egg sandwhiches are apparently favorites around here and I have to say, Violet absolutely LOVED it. We dined on fizzy drinks and looked at old pictures of the family and told stories. My Grandpa loved animals and for a long time they had a little pet possum who would sleep in between the slates of the blinds and curl his tail around your finger when carried around. There's an enormous stand of gum trees on one side of the farm and maggies would come and lay eggs up high in the trees. This usually meant many baby magpies falling, resulting in broken wings. Grandpa Rex would make the rounds and fix all the broken wings and do his best to clip the babies wings until they were old enough to start making attempts to fly again. He was also the type who would let ENORMOUS Huntsman spiders crawl up one side of his arm and down the other all while calling him a "poor fella' and putting him outside to scurry away. Australia is currently in a drought going on about 5 years so we only could see the remnants of the dam where my Uncles and Mom would swim, and a little dusty road where my Auntie Susan would practice her walking (she is now totally confined to a wheelchair and has been for some time). My mum tells a story where my Auntie would be made fun of at school because of her condition. My uncles Richard and Tom would do their best to defend her but there was one day where she simply couldn't stand it anymore and punched one of those boys teasing her right in the face. This is hard for me to imagine because my Aunt is the most gentle creature on earth I'd say.
We drove by the church where mom was a brownie, the old bar where my Gramps would come and "chew the fat" with the other local farmers every Saturday morning, and went by the old watering hole where they would all go swimming. One day my mom jumped in only to find part of the bottom had been washed away and my old uncle Tom had to dive in and rescue mom from drowning.
From what I saw it looked like a pretty good place to grow up. "'Violet should only get so lucky" has been my lasting thought on Tundabardi and the little town of Skipton.
The photo speaks for itself- here's home mom!
The stand of gum trees I mentioned with the magpies
The tin shed/fort her family lived in.
The sheering shed, all of these are original structures
Chicken coop, Violet couldn't get enough of this place.
Violet and Pa watching the sheep come in.
Billy and Violet enjoying the hot dusty wind.
So many sheep. It was beautiful out here!
Violet trying to be cool like Sam. She LOVED LOVED LOVED playing with all her boy cousins. I think she really misses that about Australia, lots of family to play with, and they all took such good care of her.
This trip meant a lot to me, and these are memories and photos I will cherish forever. So thankful we were able to visit this glorious space with small gutbucket structures and golden fields as far as they eye could see. We'll miss you Skipton.
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