Bidadisndat
Contributing Member
The intention had been to be on the road by six thirty a.m. however by that time they were already forty five minutes into the trip, having left much earlier than planned. Around a quarter to five they’d both woken, with Bron saying that maybe she’d need to water a lemon tree after all as she was sure she wouldn’t be able wait until they went by the hotel. Telling her to stay there for a moment Dave leapt from the bed and raced out to start the generator, then returned to the bedroom where he pulled her up and led her to the bathroom.
Turning on the tap over the vanity he was relieved to find that the system was functioning as it should and a strong flow of water poured into the basin. Bron’s sleepy eyes snapped wide open wide in surprise and a smile spread across her face when Dave told her that although they as yet had no hot water at least she could now use the toilet. She wasted no time in doing that and shortly after joined him in the kitchen where he explained how he had worked on the system the afternoon before, and of how he had obtained the water to fill the tank. Praising him for his efforts, though not too much of course, she thought to herself how really lucky she was to have found such a practical man and hoped that his parents would approve of her... And their living together. For his part, unbeknownst to her Dave felt the same way.
As she set about making breakfast she suggested that rather than make up sandwiches now it would be easy enough to do that during the trip, and after they had eaten they should just put everything in the big esky. It was a practical suggestion too, thought Dave as while waiting for her to finish making the French toast he retrieved an extra sleeping bag from the room where he’d stored his camping gear and placed it in the truck. It wasn’t going to be a camping trip and they’d be sleeping in real beds each night, but he never travelled with less than the minimum equipment that he might need if he got stranded somewhere.
His own BOB would cover such situations and although Bron’s overnight bag seemed to contain all she’d need in the normal course of events he decided that together they should make up a proper BOB for her too. When he suggested that, she was all for it and said it would also be a good idea to test it out by going camping on a regular basis.
Dave grinned and told her that the term she should be using when taking off with her BOB was “Bug Out” and that in such a situation his truck was known as a “BOV”, short for “Bug out Vehicle”. If they were ever forced to evacuate their home their destination was a “BOL”, short for “Bug out Location”, and currently that was his parent’s farm.
He also told her a little about preparing caches, and how he intended to set up several between their farm and that of his parents, and while she found that to be very interesting and practical the one thing that stuck in her mind most was that he had referred to the farm as “our” place.
They’d passed through the small and attractive town of Gloucester and were now on “Thunderbolt’s Way”, a spectacular thickly forested road that was named after a bushranger and wound its way through one of the most mountainous regions in the state and then on to Goondiwindi in Queensland. They wouldn’t be travelling that far of course, but would join the New England Highway at Uralla and then drive up through Armidale, Guyra and Glen Innes to Tenterfield.
The names meant little at present to Bron, who had never travelled in that part of the country until now however she had her camera ready to snap a photo of every interesting feature that Dave pointed out to her during the trip. By the time they reached Tenterfield she had used three rolls of film, each of thirty six exposures, and had loaded a fourth.
The journey turned out to be every bit as good as Dave had said it would be and this was probably due as much to his knowledge of the area and its people as it was to the scenery. In fact if it hadn’t been for his pointing out features of interest and telling her about events that happened or stories about people in the places they passed through, had she been travelling by herself she would in all likelihood have missed a great part of it.
They made several stops along the way so that they could stretch their legs and have a cup of tea or coffee and a bite to eat, and arrived at Dave’s parent’s farm in the mid afternoon. After opening the front gate, crossing the cattle grid and then closing the gate behind them it was still another five minutes drive before they reached the homestead, and Bron was quite surprised by the size of the property.
They found that both his parents, who had been watching for their arrival and had seen the dust raised by the truck as they came up the driveway, were standing on the wrap-around veranda of the big Queenslander style house waiting to welcome them.
Before they got out of the cab Dave told Bron that the night before he had told his folks that she had moved into the farmhouse at Brocklesbury, and that she needn’t be worried about meeting them. Bron pouted and directing narrowed eyes at him said that it would have saved her hours of worry if he had told her that before they’d left home.
One look at his parent’s faces assured Bron that she had nothing to worry about anyway as both were wreathed in smiles that showed obvious pleasure in her arrival, and in no time at all she found herself being warmly embraced by first his mother then by his father.
Of course Dave too was greeted warmly however after introducing Bron to his mother, Gwen, and his father, Gareth, he had found himself left to bring their bags up to the house as she was escorted up the steps to the front entrance. By the time he’d deposited the bags in the hallway that ran from the front door through to the back door the two women were chatting together as if they’d known each other forever.
His father knew when men weren’t needed around and taking two long-necks of beer from the fridge and two glasses from a cupboard motioned Dave to follow him and went out onto the front veranda. Pouring them each a glass he told Dave that for all the friendly chat that was going on in the kitchen his mother was probably subjecting Bron to an interrogation of sorts, and laughed when Dave told him that Bron was probably doing the same to his mother.
“She’s more than just passing attractive, Dai. In fact she’s quite stunning. I can’t understand why some young man hasn’t already taken her out of circulation, so to speak. Hmm. No, that’s probably not the best way to phrase that: Having read your letter and now met her in person I don’t think that she’s the type of girl that would circulate, and I don’t mean that in a coarse way naturally.”
“I understand what you mean, Dad. And for all I know she may have had a boyfriend or two before we met, but if she did it was before we met, and I haven’t asked her anything about her personal life before that. She’s a very open and direct woman and I’m sure that if there’s anything I need to know about her past, she’ll tell me.”
“Of course we may be overlooking the obvious: She might have already learned of your reputation for being kind, caring and considerate as well as being devilishly handsome, and was lying in wait to ambush you.”
“That’s true. Though she could turn out to be just incredibly naïve, or stupid, or both; and I’ve been extremely lucky.”
“Yeah. Well, I guess that’s probably more likely.”
The subject was changed as Morgan Snr told his son about what had been done with the farm since his last visit and during that discussion Bron appeared at the front screen door.
“Dad, Dave, dinner’s ready,” she said before suddenly retreating to the kitchen in laughter that was accompanied with a snort.
The bemused pair followed her inside, still holding their unfinished glasses of beer and wondering what had made her laugh so hard sat down at the table and asked her to explain.
“Well, Mum said “Go and tell Dad and Dave that dinner’s ready” and as I was doing just that I just couldn’t help thinking “I’m glad my name’s not Mabel.”
Although it took Dave a few seconds to realise what she was talking about his parents caught on immediately and began laughing.
“Dad and Dave from Snake Gully,” said Gareth. “Gosh, that takes me way back. Did they broadcast that radio program in New Zealand too? Even if they did it would have been before you were born, surely. How did you get to know about it?”
“I heard a few episodes when they were broadcast on some sort of nostalgia program that my dad used to listen to. And of course there were lots of Dad, Dave and Mabel jokes about when I was at school, though nearly all of those were smutty boys’ jokes that well-bred young ladies such as myself had to pretend they either didn’t hear or didn’t understand.”
During the extended time that was taken over dinner both Dave and Bron described the farm at Brocklesbury, what had been done with it so far and what Dave planned to do with it in the future. When Bron said that for the most part the farmhouse was going to be the castle from which she would rule the estate Gwen advised her that it was important to keep firm control over any serfs that worked the fields. Especially if any singular serf tried to exert undue influence on how the estate should be managed.
“Would Your Highness be so kind as to pass me the raspberry syrup?” interrupted a grinning Dave, whose mother had just placed a large bowl of vanilla ice-cream in front of him.
Bron rolled her eyes in a way that he was very quickly going to learn conveyed best-unspoken but nevertheless unmistakable replies to what she considered to be his droll if not ridiculous comments, and then passed him the syrup. Unseen by Dave his mother, who was just now standing behind him, grinned and gave Bron an approving wink and a nod, knowing that she was going to have quite a positive influence on her son. When Bron also grinned Dave turned to look enquiringly at his mother who simply cocked her head to one side a little and with a smile raised her eyebrows.
“Just remember when we get home,” he growled, turning back to face Bron. “It’s me who wears the pants around the house.”
“Well of course you do darlin’,” Bron replied sweetly, adding “After I’ve approved of the colour and style of course.”
His father wisely refrained from saying anything but it was obvious that Dave had just lost whatever it was that he was supposed not to have lost; namely his right to rule the roost.
However Dave knew all was well when later that evening his mother pulled out her stack of family albums and began showing Bron the many photographs that she had taken of Dave and his sister Patricia right up until the time they had both left home. Even more so when he discovered that she had quietly directed his father to take both his back-pack and Bron’s overnight bag to ’Trish’s bedroom, which had had her queen-size double bed made up. If he had checked his own room he would have found that his own king-single bed had also been made up, just in case his mother found something about Bron she disapproved of, but he didn’t look in there until late the next day.
Nobody seemed to find it out of the ordinary that Bron referred to Dave’s parents as Mum and Dad either, or if they did it was obviously considered to be completely acceptable and when Gwen Morgan went to bed later that night she was happy to know that she now had a daughter-in-law. Even if unofficially and even if nobody else, including Bron, was aware of it yet.
The really-not-newly-weds were also happy when they retired that night, both feeling that a major hurdle had been taken with little effort and that the next few days would be happy ones. And as the ceiling fan above quietly directed a cool flow of air down onto the bed, making Dave glad that Sparks had suggested installing the same back at their farm, Bron snuggled up to him and they drifted slowly off to a land of very pleasant dreams.
Turning on the tap over the vanity he was relieved to find that the system was functioning as it should and a strong flow of water poured into the basin. Bron’s sleepy eyes snapped wide open wide in surprise and a smile spread across her face when Dave told her that although they as yet had no hot water at least she could now use the toilet. She wasted no time in doing that and shortly after joined him in the kitchen where he explained how he had worked on the system the afternoon before, and of how he had obtained the water to fill the tank. Praising him for his efforts, though not too much of course, she thought to herself how really lucky she was to have found such a practical man and hoped that his parents would approve of her... And their living together. For his part, unbeknownst to her Dave felt the same way.
As she set about making breakfast she suggested that rather than make up sandwiches now it would be easy enough to do that during the trip, and after they had eaten they should just put everything in the big esky. It was a practical suggestion too, thought Dave as while waiting for her to finish making the French toast he retrieved an extra sleeping bag from the room where he’d stored his camping gear and placed it in the truck. It wasn’t going to be a camping trip and they’d be sleeping in real beds each night, but he never travelled with less than the minimum equipment that he might need if he got stranded somewhere.
His own BOB would cover such situations and although Bron’s overnight bag seemed to contain all she’d need in the normal course of events he decided that together they should make up a proper BOB for her too. When he suggested that, she was all for it and said it would also be a good idea to test it out by going camping on a regular basis.
Dave grinned and told her that the term she should be using when taking off with her BOB was “Bug Out” and that in such a situation his truck was known as a “BOV”, short for “Bug out Vehicle”. If they were ever forced to evacuate their home their destination was a “BOL”, short for “Bug out Location”, and currently that was his parent’s farm.
He also told her a little about preparing caches, and how he intended to set up several between their farm and that of his parents, and while she found that to be very interesting and practical the one thing that stuck in her mind most was that he had referred to the farm as “our” place.
They’d passed through the small and attractive town of Gloucester and were now on “Thunderbolt’s Way”, a spectacular thickly forested road that was named after a bushranger and wound its way through one of the most mountainous regions in the state and then on to Goondiwindi in Queensland. They wouldn’t be travelling that far of course, but would join the New England Highway at Uralla and then drive up through Armidale, Guyra and Glen Innes to Tenterfield.
The names meant little at present to Bron, who had never travelled in that part of the country until now however she had her camera ready to snap a photo of every interesting feature that Dave pointed out to her during the trip. By the time they reached Tenterfield she had used three rolls of film, each of thirty six exposures, and had loaded a fourth.
The journey turned out to be every bit as good as Dave had said it would be and this was probably due as much to his knowledge of the area and its people as it was to the scenery. In fact if it hadn’t been for his pointing out features of interest and telling her about events that happened or stories about people in the places they passed through, had she been travelling by herself she would in all likelihood have missed a great part of it.
They made several stops along the way so that they could stretch their legs and have a cup of tea or coffee and a bite to eat, and arrived at Dave’s parent’s farm in the mid afternoon. After opening the front gate, crossing the cattle grid and then closing the gate behind them it was still another five minutes drive before they reached the homestead, and Bron was quite surprised by the size of the property.
They found that both his parents, who had been watching for their arrival and had seen the dust raised by the truck as they came up the driveway, were standing on the wrap-around veranda of the big Queenslander style house waiting to welcome them.
Before they got out of the cab Dave told Bron that the night before he had told his folks that she had moved into the farmhouse at Brocklesbury, and that she needn’t be worried about meeting them. Bron pouted and directing narrowed eyes at him said that it would have saved her hours of worry if he had told her that before they’d left home.
One look at his parent’s faces assured Bron that she had nothing to worry about anyway as both were wreathed in smiles that showed obvious pleasure in her arrival, and in no time at all she found herself being warmly embraced by first his mother then by his father.
Of course Dave too was greeted warmly however after introducing Bron to his mother, Gwen, and his father, Gareth, he had found himself left to bring their bags up to the house as she was escorted up the steps to the front entrance. By the time he’d deposited the bags in the hallway that ran from the front door through to the back door the two women were chatting together as if they’d known each other forever.
His father knew when men weren’t needed around and taking two long-necks of beer from the fridge and two glasses from a cupboard motioned Dave to follow him and went out onto the front veranda. Pouring them each a glass he told Dave that for all the friendly chat that was going on in the kitchen his mother was probably subjecting Bron to an interrogation of sorts, and laughed when Dave told him that Bron was probably doing the same to his mother.
“She’s more than just passing attractive, Dai. In fact she’s quite stunning. I can’t understand why some young man hasn’t already taken her out of circulation, so to speak. Hmm. No, that’s probably not the best way to phrase that: Having read your letter and now met her in person I don’t think that she’s the type of girl that would circulate, and I don’t mean that in a coarse way naturally.”
“I understand what you mean, Dad. And for all I know she may have had a boyfriend or two before we met, but if she did it was before we met, and I haven’t asked her anything about her personal life before that. She’s a very open and direct woman and I’m sure that if there’s anything I need to know about her past, she’ll tell me.”
“Of course we may be overlooking the obvious: She might have already learned of your reputation for being kind, caring and considerate as well as being devilishly handsome, and was lying in wait to ambush you.”
“That’s true. Though she could turn out to be just incredibly naïve, or stupid, or both; and I’ve been extremely lucky.”
“Yeah. Well, I guess that’s probably more likely.”
The subject was changed as Morgan Snr told his son about what had been done with the farm since his last visit and during that discussion Bron appeared at the front screen door.
“Dad, Dave, dinner’s ready,” she said before suddenly retreating to the kitchen in laughter that was accompanied with a snort.
The bemused pair followed her inside, still holding their unfinished glasses of beer and wondering what had made her laugh so hard sat down at the table and asked her to explain.
“Well, Mum said “Go and tell Dad and Dave that dinner’s ready” and as I was doing just that I just couldn’t help thinking “I’m glad my name’s not Mabel.”
Although it took Dave a few seconds to realise what she was talking about his parents caught on immediately and began laughing.
“Dad and Dave from Snake Gully,” said Gareth. “Gosh, that takes me way back. Did they broadcast that radio program in New Zealand too? Even if they did it would have been before you were born, surely. How did you get to know about it?”
“I heard a few episodes when they were broadcast on some sort of nostalgia program that my dad used to listen to. And of course there were lots of Dad, Dave and Mabel jokes about when I was at school, though nearly all of those were smutty boys’ jokes that well-bred young ladies such as myself had to pretend they either didn’t hear or didn’t understand.”
During the extended time that was taken over dinner both Dave and Bron described the farm at Brocklesbury, what had been done with it so far and what Dave planned to do with it in the future. When Bron said that for the most part the farmhouse was going to be the castle from which she would rule the estate Gwen advised her that it was important to keep firm control over any serfs that worked the fields. Especially if any singular serf tried to exert undue influence on how the estate should be managed.
“Would Your Highness be so kind as to pass me the raspberry syrup?” interrupted a grinning Dave, whose mother had just placed a large bowl of vanilla ice-cream in front of him.
Bron rolled her eyes in a way that he was very quickly going to learn conveyed best-unspoken but nevertheless unmistakable replies to what she considered to be his droll if not ridiculous comments, and then passed him the syrup. Unseen by Dave his mother, who was just now standing behind him, grinned and gave Bron an approving wink and a nod, knowing that she was going to have quite a positive influence on her son. When Bron also grinned Dave turned to look enquiringly at his mother who simply cocked her head to one side a little and with a smile raised her eyebrows.
“Just remember when we get home,” he growled, turning back to face Bron. “It’s me who wears the pants around the house.”
“Well of course you do darlin’,” Bron replied sweetly, adding “After I’ve approved of the colour and style of course.”
His father wisely refrained from saying anything but it was obvious that Dave had just lost whatever it was that he was supposed not to have lost; namely his right to rule the roost.
However Dave knew all was well when later that evening his mother pulled out her stack of family albums and began showing Bron the many photographs that she had taken of Dave and his sister Patricia right up until the time they had both left home. Even more so when he discovered that she had quietly directed his father to take both his back-pack and Bron’s overnight bag to ’Trish’s bedroom, which had had her queen-size double bed made up. If he had checked his own room he would have found that his own king-single bed had also been made up, just in case his mother found something about Bron she disapproved of, but he didn’t look in there until late the next day.
Nobody seemed to find it out of the ordinary that Bron referred to Dave’s parents as Mum and Dad either, or if they did it was obviously considered to be completely acceptable and when Gwen Morgan went to bed later that night she was happy to know that she now had a daughter-in-law. Even if unofficially and even if nobody else, including Bron, was aware of it yet.
The really-not-newly-weds were also happy when they retired that night, both feeling that a major hurdle had been taken with little effort and that the next few days would be happy ones. And as the ceiling fan above quietly directed a cool flow of air down onto the bed, making Dave glad that Sparks had suggested installing the same back at their farm, Bron snuggled up to him and they drifted slowly off to a land of very pleasant dreams.
* * *