I was born into a farming family, Western Australia, as one of six children. Growing up, I was instilled with a strong work ethic and a deep respect for the diversity of race, creed, and beliefs in others. My father's words always resonate with me: “It doesn’t matter if their clothes are patched, as long as they are clean and pressed.”

 

Being raised on a farm offers a unique perspective on life. You develop a close connection to nature in all its forms: wind, air, water, earth, and fire. You also become aware of nature's unpredictability, particularly in farming. Often, a farmer's success depends not only on expertise but also on luck. This was certainly true for my father, who expanded his land from 500 acres to over 20,000 during his lifetime.

 

Horse riding became my passion, and my love for animals was profound. My success in show riding can be attributed to the strong bond I had with my horse, which was likely closer than the connections I had with most people. Thanks to this special relationship, I won many championships.

 

To continue my education, as the local school only went up to junior high, I attended a boarding school. There, I met many other girls from farming families across the state and even from overseas. Following that, I went on to Claremont Teachers Training College.

 

Tragically, after a devastating drought, my father took his own life when I was nineteen years old. This loss left me heartbroken, and everything changed so quickly. I left college and married a farmer. Unfortunately, the farm was divided due to family dynamics, and suddenly, two country kids found themselves adjusting to city life.

 

We sought out work wherever we could and shared the responsibility of raising our three children. My husband launched a small business, marking the beginning of many ventures. I worked as a clerk in a hospital. At the age of thirty, I returned to university to pursue a BA in Business, with minors in property and accounting.

 

This led to a career in Property Valuation and Management. I started as a government consultant on commercial leases. Then, I worked as a Financial Manager at QV.1 and an Estate Manager at Perth Airport, all while assisting my family in their businesses.

 

I was diagnosed with depression, which was linked to the trauma of my father's death. To this day, I can't think of it without feeling sorrow. This shared sorrow was something I experienced with my sister when she was dying. We both blamed ourselves for not being there to help him during that crucial time.

 

The farm is still there, and my brother runs it now, but our family is far-flung. Due to family dynamics, my younger brothers have found new lives elsewhere. I often look through the old photo album of Dad’s first wool bales and those early farming days.

 

I am now retired and live on the banks of the Swan River, where the grass is always green and the river flows. Standing on my balcony, I can see for miles the vast open sky above, just like home on the farm.  The rains are no longer necessary, but every time it falls, I feel terrific. Chihuahuas have replaced the horses. My thoughts often drift back to those times and the people, and I wonder if the seasons are treating them well.

 

I put my experiences on paper, blending fact and fiction. However, I can't finish without the words I finished my sister's eulogy with -

“You can take a girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl.”