Callamar


The journey up,
It seemed so long when I was little
Coming off the highway onto dusty gravel roads,
The music in the car, the car crunching on the gravel
The anticipation as we crossed the creek,
Dry now for many years
Trundling up the lengthy drive lined by drought-ridden trees
This I remember

Catching yabbies with Mum
Sometimes a lot, often a little
Their ugly faces
Feeling that every time you pick one up…
It will be the one to nip you
The smell of them cooking,
The wonderful taste
This I remember


Walking up the stables
Dressed in our farm clothes
The smell of the horses, straw and manure
Patting the horses
Watching them trot on the training track
Riding along in the cart
I felt so excited
This I remember

Staying inside
Helping Nan bake the yummy treats
Hedgehog and little cakes
Our favourites
Crushing the biscuits with the heavy marbled rolling pin
Eating the end results
Revelling in the taste
This I remember

This I remember
The driving lessons, the many horses
Nan and Poppy Hoot,
My fantastic grandparents
The dry paddocks, the comfortable farmhouse
The roundabout with the gum-tree in the middle
Climbing trees, planting trees
And the experience…
Of Callamar

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