I grew up in a large homestead (pictured) on a farm at 'Mahunga' in Masterton with my Mum Olive, Dad George, Twin Sister Janet, and younger Sister Margaret (who was also a twin, but her brother died at twenty-one months) along with sheep, cows, cats, possums, chooks, and horses.
The homestead was the former home of the Donald family who made the Donald wool presses' which were nationally renowned essential for all woolsheds. We lived on the lower floor only of the homestead as this had all the rooms, we needed with three bedrooms, large formal lounge with open fireplace, large bathroom, extra-large kitchen with coal range, dining area and walk-in pantry which was always full of preserves, flour, dried fruit, baking needs and canned food. We mostly lived in the kitchen as it was cosy, and the smell of Mums great baking and cooking was too alluring.
There was electric power to the home, but it was often cut off at the pole when we were not able to pay the power bill. We didn't care a monkey's as hot water was provided by the coal range along with cooking and warming the area, a log fire in the lounge, hot water bottles for the beds and as we had a 'safe' outside the back door, didn't know what a fridge was. Lighting was by kerosene lanterns and candelabra. There was a radio in the kitchen which we listened to such programmes as Aunt Daisy, Dr Paul, Portia faces life, Dexter Dutton, “It's in the Bag” with Selwyn Toogood, A town like Alice, Doreen Kelso, horse racing with Peter Kelly, and Trotting at night from Alexandra Park with Reg Clapp. All-Black rugby tests with Winston McCarthy and Bob Irvine, motoring with Robbie, Ernie Ormrod's Band stand on Sunday and the Sunday request session (when eating our Sunday roast). Somehow even without power we were able to get the radio to work.
Life on the farm was total joy, us kids ran loose from dawn to dusk without a care in the world, a big vege garden to muck about in, an orchard to pick apples, pears, plums, chinese gooseberries, blackberries along with walnut trees. The chooks provided plenty of eggs and Jessy the cow (who could at times be a proper cow) provided plenty of milk. We always were picking flowers for Mum to have in the house, Hydrangeas, japonica, daffodils (when the lambs weren't squashing them), gladioli's (which we weren't meant to pick), ferns and blossom branches. Plenty of firewood to gather and as I got older was allowed to cut and split with an axe.
All the animals were our pets one way or another, we loved them all and played with and around them. We were clever kids as we agreed on a name for the cat that was having all the kittens to be called Mother cat (wracked our brains for ages). One day the Mahunga Golf Club people (the course was on the farm) asked us if we would let the sheep eat the grass on the fairways once they had temporarily fenced around the greens. However, in our excitement to help we let the sheep on before they had fenced the greens. There ended up being more than one hole in the greens in fact eight or ten to each green. A lot of the golfers were getting holes in one. We were never asked to do it again.
The four seasons of the year are so pronounced when living on a farm and each one excited us as there were different things and changes to look forward to, different chores to complete and enjoy. The freshness and the smells (even when the cow farts) forever remain and remind there is a lot to enjoy in this life.