Реклама. ООО «ЛитРес», ИНН: 7719571260.
Author’s preface
When I moved to Melbourne in 1971, aged 20, I took with me a broad country Aussie accent that had people mocking me about the way I spoke. Dog was never “dog” it was “dawg” plus I had no dress sense and many other bushie quirks. I quickly learnt a port was where ships came in and a suitcase was for placing clothes for travel. As I spoke to others over the years they kept telling me I should write a book about my experience of being a drover’s daughter. In early 1980 I started to put my memories on pieces of paper. Some of these I copied out and sent to Mum, Emmie and Mary to add to. Mum made an effort to fill in the gaps, Emmie did as much as she could but she found it very stressful to talk about our past life “in the long paddock” and Mary did not acknowledge my notes. With their help and the memories I gathered over the past 25 years I have managed to get a book together that I am proud to call my own.
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‘Whash shide of the road?’ Dad slurred.
‘Well keep to the bloody centre then,’ she snarled.
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