Chapter 15 - A Real House at Last

Early in November 1920 Fred went to inquire about prices for timber to build the additions he and Esther had planned so long ago.   

“You know, I hoped it would be done before we were married,” he told his wife. “The first of the timber will be here in a week,” and he could not keep the satisfaction out of his voice.

On November 18th the milking was finished by 6am and Fred & Sam set off with 15 steers for the sale. “Prices were satisfactory. We got £80/2/6d for the lot!” During the next month wagon loads of timber and cement were bought out to the farm. But the usual jobs could not be neglected, the cows must be milked, (they employed a farm worker but it took the three of them to do the cows and pigs). Fences round the potatoes, turnips and swedes had to be erected and sheep shorn. The hay must go in; Sainsbury’s, Till’s, McMullen’s Scott’s and of course their own. It was not till after Christmas that there was a wet day and he started to make the window sashes for the new rooms. All the tasks on the farm seemed to entail hard physical labour but Fred and Sam were young and it really began to appear as if their hard work was worthwhile. “We can still walk from one end of the flats to the other stepping from one stump to another without touching the dirt,” Sam told his friends one day, “but there are quite a few little patches where we can use the plough now.  Swedes, turnips, pumpkin and potatoes must be planted in cultivated ground though we harvest them by hand. Each year we’ve got to do extra harrowing to lift stumps that have risen before we can shut up the hay paddock though now we don’t have to go round many logs that we haven’t been able to shift. It wasn’t easy to get the heaps of swamp wood to burn, even when they were really dry. When a pile did get going it was a case of watching carefully to make sure the fire stayed where it was supposed to be. Firewood had to be cut. The ‘Electra’ engine was set up by the circular saw bench and swamp logs that had dried for a few years brought to it. The straighter pieces that two men could lift were used; the third man throwing the cut pieces onto the wagon. Most had to be split again for the range and the copper at the shed and wash-house; those needed for the open fireplace could be larger but all had to be stacked away in a dry shed. Wet wood does not cook a roast dinner! 

Nearly every autumn it seemed like a ‘House that Jack built.’ 

The wind won’t blow,

The windmills won’t turn,

The water won’t flow,

The cows bellow for water and they won’t give much milk.

The Crosley benzene engine pumped water from the well by the house and pipes laid to the troughs at the shed. Through the years they made troughs till there was one in each paddock and pipes radiated out from the wells. This autumn Fred decided “We better try to tackle the rushes in the front corner of Dalmatia.” All the paddocks had names, as did all the cows. Some of the clumps of rushes were twelve feet across. With the long handled shovels honed to a razor sharpness the men dug right round and under the pant. It had to be completely cut before the snig chain could be attached for a horse to pull each plant into a heap to dry for a year or so till it would burn. The task required a good deal of strength and considerable skill. An unwary thrust could send the worker splashing forward to land on his face. It was most frustrating. There seemed so many tasks on the farm that could not be left, but by March the outside walls and concrete verandahs for the additions to the house were completed.

“I will have to go to Auckland to get the lead lights,” Fred said. He was able to get the glass to make a lead light for the front door; a lovely pink, two shades of green and a pale gold, but he also went to see and purchase the latest washing machine. A handle turned the agitator and there was a lid so the steam did not worry the operator. It cost £6/19/9d; about the value of two fat pigs. Fred believed anything that helped his wife was worthwhile. (When electricity did at last come to the farm in 1928, they bought an electric one and Mary loaded the old one onto the sledge and took it to a neighbor who had a large family and no electricity). Very carefully Fred and Esther traced round the design they had drawn and the lead lights were assembled. “Another dream come true,” Fred whispered when the beautiful door was in place. They held hands and offered thanks to God as the first rays of sun sparkled through the lovely colours just as they had planned. The early morning sun shone directly through the glass, lighting the passage with a rosy glow. Throughout the years Esther seldom failed to catch her breath at its beauty, and at the start of each day it flashed its message to Fred, “God’s love is renewed every morning.” Fred and Sam laid the bricks for the chimney and in May, with great rejoicing, they pulled out the ‘historic landmark’ the noisy tin gunnel. “It looks like a real house now with a brick chimney,” said Esther happily. The bathroom was match lined and a new range and cylinder installed. As Fred finished the plumbing he thought, “my apprenticeship with Strands was the best preparation for this farming venture. But it’s lucky he made us do everything.”

Experience showed that jerseys were not the best breed for the rough pastures and now there were cows of every colour; predominantly milking shorthorns. The registered pedigree milking shorthorn bull ‘Glenfield Duke’ cost eleven guineas and ‘Envoy of Pukemiro’ lost his job. The dairy company payout in 1920 was 20/1d per pound of butterfat and in 1921 it was 33/17d. It did not reach 20/ again for another 25 years and not till 1952 was it over 30/ a pound.