We’ve been in the car for 3 Sesame Streets. The car whizzes by Gnotuk Primary and I know we are getting close.
The bitumen turns to dirt and we pass the Delaney’s farm. We’re all bouncing in the backseat of the car now, not just from the pot holes but from excitement too. Only a few more minutes and we’ll be at the “country cousins”.
We reach the end of the road and turn left into the driveway. The car rumbles over the cattle bridge. I stare longingly at the Oak trees lining the driveway. They would be good climbers if they hadn’t had their lower limbs trimmed.
The drive comes to an abrupt end at the front lawn of Eddington. The car is parked and unpacked at the front door. We’ll only use this door twice this visit.
Once we’ve been welcomed we are reminded of the house rules. “No animals in the house, shoes off, scullery entrance only, eat everything on your plate, only 2 teaspoons of Milo”.
Bind and I will share Jen’s bedroom and Cal is in The Boys’ Room. We dump our bags, kick off our sneaks and head straight for the scullery. The grown ups are already enjoying a cuppa in the sitting room. The fire is roaring and Rod’s socked feet are toasting nicely. Marg and Rod and the four cousins are all wearing “homespuns”. I chuckle to myself knowing that Dad will have his on when we come in for dinner.
Mum jumps up from her seat and follows me out to the TV room. She grabs my arm and reminds me that “farm talk” is for the paddocks only. I nod and join the gumboot clad crew kicking gravel in the driveway.
We lose the afternoon in the woolshed, the shearer’s quarters, the machinery shed and playing in the cypress hedge. Bind and Cal and I are making the most of the “farm talk” rule. We swear like troopers and then giggle crazily.
Our stomachs tell us when it’s time to head back. Aunty Marg has dinner on the table when we get home. After dinner the boys make us Milo topped ice cream in a cone. It’s clear that they’ve learnt to get around the two teaspoon rule.
Bedtime is announced and we all scramble into our PJs and hop into bed. The sheets are thick and the beds are perfectly made. No doonas for the country cousins. Their blankets are heavy and warm. Aunty Marg knows all about hospital corners.
Mum and Dad kiss us goodnight and then Aunty Marg bustles in and bustles them out. She sets about tucking us in. She’s pretty strong and when she tucks those blankets in I roll a little to the left and then a little to the right. The tuck secures me in the centre of the bed and I’m aware that my eye lids are heavy. I feel safe knowing I won’t move until the morning.
More tucked up in bed stories here.
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