Price: AU$19.95
ISBN: 0-9579646-0-9
Number of Pages: 230
When the author’s father died, he realised how little he knew of him. Motivated by this, and determined not to let his children suffer the same, what started as a few pages has become a beautifully written memoir of the author’s first 20 years in an Australian country town. Both a moving and hilarious autobiography!
READ AN EXTRACT:
"The township at the beginning of the 1940s was a very scattered arrangement with more vacant or bush-covered blocks than there were houses. Giblett Street, where all the shops were, was the only bitumen-covered road in the town. Everywhere else the roads were hard dirt or sandy tracks; dusty and corrugated in summer, and in winter covered in muddy puddles.
These were the days when the rumble of steel-rimmed wheels on horse drawn drays and carts were still a fairly common sound around town, as was the sound of old Bob Anderson, the farrier's hammer as it smashed against the anvil, shaping the shoes for horses that stood waiting patiently under the oak trees across from his forge down the lower end of Rose Street. Bearded old men, sucking on bent-stemmed pipes, walking sticks clutched in their knobbly hands, sitting all day on the wide window ledges that ran along the front of Mr Kitley the chemist and old Jock Suthie's pie shop, just watching time go by. 'Tin Lizzies' rattling around the streets, with their flapping canvas hoods, noisy engines and ridiculous sounding hooters adding to the noise of the big black steam engines that shunted back and forth over in the railway yards across the road."
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