Our family lived on a property bordering Alf Adamswaite's in the early 1950's. I was told it was a 'Church House' that my parents rented - in the middle of nowhere. Dad (Ken Court) worked the sheep & did anything needed, while Mum (Chris) raised chooks & grew produce. I was born in May 1953, my brother Andrew in 1956, & the family returned to the UK a year later.
Over the years I was told many funny stories about life in Quamby...one involved Alf himself:
At the time we had two cows, Myrtle and Daisy. Daisy particularly liked to lick peoples' necks for the salt in their sweat. This habit led up to an incident in the garden.
Just for a change, Mum was pegging out washing. It was one of those days when you could hang things out and then, by the time you'd reached the other end of the washing line, you could start collecting them in again because they were already dry! As she reached to peg something up, Mum felt a huge lick across the back of her neck. Thinking it was Daisy up to her old tricks, Mum gently smacked her on the nose and told her to clear off.
Another huge lick followed and again Mum pushed the nose away and told her to buzz off. The third lick did it - as the tongue rasped it's way across her neck Mum turned to really tell Daisy off, but it wasn't Daisy! It was the bull from the neighbouring property!
Mum told me that she dropped the laundry, ran towards the house, picking me up en route and got on the radio straight away. Apparently she told Alf Adamswaite, the bull's owner, that the bull was 'terrorising' us and he was to come and 'rescue' us immediately! Alf was a good sort and came over in his Ute to collect the bull. 'Terrorise'? - That was a bit of a joke - Alf just whistled, like you would to a dog, and the old bull ambled away behind his master, with Alf laughing as he went!
reproduced with kind permission from Gez's memoirs
and Elizabeth has told us another story about Alf ... seen below with his famous team