Item 04: Memoirs of a Colonial Boy by Robert Joseph Stewart, ca. 1971 - Page 139
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[Page 139]
69
Cooking was done on a huge, cast-iron wood burning range (stove) which made the kitchen almost unbearably hot in Summer, but cosily warm in Winter frosty mornings and evenings. Washing of bed linen and personal clothing was an awkward task; first a boiling in a Soyer stove copper, under the shade of some so-called "Cedar" trees in the backyard, followed by scrubbing and rinsing in two or three very large, loose, circular, galvanised iron, tubs on a low bench in one end of the long detached shed nearby. The ironing was usually done every Tuesday afternoon and evening, on an extra table at one end of the long kitchen, the heavy flat irons being heated on top of the range.
My Mother was always able to get a good type of strong competent country girl to 'live in" as a "cook general", though she did much of the cooking herself, and we youngsters made our own beds and helped with the washing-up in the kitchen. Mother's mouth-watering specialty, was a fruity curry, and absolutely cleaned, shining plates and a completely empty pan, always vouched for its excellence.
One maid who stayed longest in our service, and really became one of the family, was Greta Hansen, a daughter of a family of Norwegian wheat farmers in the district. But eventually a handsome young bachelor farmer, carting his wheat in to the railway, began calling regularly at our back door, and we realised, that soon we should be losing our Greta.
Another member of our domestic staff, was a little, bearded, elderly miner, Jimmy Mitchell, who had dug many a shaft down on to alluvial gravel deposits, but had never found much gold; only years of hard work and semi-starvation. Finally, he "swore off" fossicking, and accepted the safe job at "Rosedernate" for a pound a week and his keep. He slept in the harness room of the coach house, and ate his meals in the kitchen with an amazingly enormous appetite: he could consume most of a small leg of mutton at one sitting. But he was a tireless worker, and fairly skilled in fencing and other bushwork. Dad taught him to be a gardener, and he did the milking and much of the stable work. Years later, he left us to work as a casual gardener in the town