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Blogs by Barbara Hartmann King
Life at Wyuna where the writing began 11/18/2011 2:30:05 PM
Life at Wyuna:
It was 1980. I had just turned 40 and the lonely little cattle property was the venue for my first tentative steps into the world of creative writing. My mother had sent me $400 to help me on my way. Writing had been on my mind for a long time and would remain a cherished hobby for the remainder of my life.
My life on Wyuna was a huge learning experience, not just with the writing course, it was another chapter in country living which would be with me always. The name Wyuna is an Aboriginal word meaning clearwater and the property did indeed have a plentiful water supply with permanent running creeks. The almost derelict 100 year old homestead with its steep roof and rambling appearance had been without tenants for 20 years and its outside walls had never seen a coat of paint. The desolate old dwelling from another century had the creepy appearance of a haunted house of the Brothers Grimm variety, the childish memories of fairy tales with witches and demons reverberating in my mind.
Myhusband thought the property had potential and to him the house was a secondary consideration. He was determined to renovate the old homestead himself and makeit liveable.
Poor Rob was severely criticised by relatives from both sides of the family. Phrases such as: ‘This is worse than we expected – the house is disgusting - fancy bringing a woman to a terrible place like this,’ were uttered in disbelief with the clicking of tongues and shaking of fingers. There was a lot to be done.
Two of our sons had completed their education and were working; the eldest had graduated from Agricultural College and found his niche in the stud cattle industry, the other marking time as a jackaroo on a large property in the western regions; the third had been accepted at the Emerald Agricultural College and began his College education. My youngest was still in primary school and I was travelling 7 kilometres twice a day over contour banks through a neighbour's paddock to the school bus that went to Kingaroy and the attention from the resident emus was a constant worry...
