Mum Me And Mangos

Mum Me And Mangos
By Paul McCann

Chickie, otherwise Mum as I call her is the love of my life . Chickie and I were married young and had a large family . As the kids arrived on steps,  one after the other I got so used to calling her Mum , the name stuck .Mum me and the kids on the farm were happy living on the farm until the drought came . Things were tough all over and if it wasn’t hard enough for us we had some relations arrive on our doorstep .

Our little nipper was only 2 years old he slept in a wooden box that once had mangos in it when times were better. Mum and I used to grow mangos on the property until the rain stopped coming .

We always key the wooden box as a reminder of the good times . Mum and I oved our mangos .

People often said we had the number 1 grade mango in all the country and trucks used to leave our property every day with trucks of mangos boxed and bound for the city markets . Now all that seem like a dream and the dust lies where once green grass had grown .

 

Twilight fell I watched Mum bathe the little nipper in the steel tub in the kitchen and scraped the last meat off the pigs back for our dinner . There were 12 of us living on the farm and barely enough to feed 5 of us .

After dinner we all went to bed with rumbling tummy’s  . Mum and I closed our eyes with silent prayers for rain to come soon .    

Another dawn arrived with the Kookaburras laughing with another empty  promise of rain . The soft tropical breeze swept through whispering sweet memories of the river that once ran through our property .

The drought had moved in and overstayed her welcome and the landlady of time has not evicted her  yet . It has been dry too long .

Mum and I have been looking after the kids as best we could with both of us trying to make hay while the sun shone on greener pastures elsewhere .

We travelled around other properties doing seasonal work , cutting came picking olives and bananas while the kids were looked after by the relatives at home on the farm.

The passing of time saw Mum and I grow more disappointed and tired of life

on the farm . In fact the seasonal work we did for other folk harvest time was a welcome escape from the heart ache of the dust that kept blowing around the door on our own property .

All our mango trees had died so we couldn’t afford feed for the sheep . It was cheaper to buy bullets and we sold the sheep to the butchers .

The cattle had already been sold for half of what they were worth but at least we were able to get something back and pay off our outstanding debts to the bank and carry on living on the farm  .

It was difficult for us in the drought but we kept on trying .

I often looked at that old rusty tin roof over our heads and wanted to walk away from the harsh existence . It seems like a step away from hell at times but somewhere there in the flies and the dust there was also a little piece of heaven with the hope that maybe if we stick it out through the dry seasons we would get to appreciate the return of the mangos again.

For six years now Mum and I had been without mangos and the little nipper was now almost 7 .

I still remember the day she gave him a pair of my old work boots and said ,

“Well son its almost time for you to go out do some work around the farm .“

That day the galahs came and perched on the fence and had a laugh along with us all  Little nipper had no idea what was so funny .

He tried to out the old boots and walked around like Frankenstein all that morning .

I watched Mum as she stood at the stove cooking breakfast  . We all loved those pancakes of hers .
Every morning I said the same thing to her .

“How’s the weather out there Mum . Are the mangos ready for picking yet ?”

Little nipper always repeated what I said and Mum never answered as she turned over the pancakes .

“’Did you hear I hear the kookaburras early on having a laugh “ I asked her .

“I did:.”  she said

“So it looks like there’s rain on the way Mum . We might have to get all the mangos in their boxes by tomorrow .”

Then I went over and stood beside her put my arm around her .

She took the pancakes from the pan and placed then on a plate and handed it to me saying .
“How’s that fence down by the dry desert gum river ?“

With a muttered response due to half a pancake in my mouth I replied ,
“I fixed it yesterday .”

Quick as a flash she asked ,
“Did you see that Brumbie around yet ?
I shook my head and answered ,
“No . I think its gone somewhere else .”
As I began to make my way over to the kitchen table she called after me ,
“Well tell me then , you still don’t mind living out here on the property with the flies and the dust ?”
I stopped and looked back and said ,
“No Mum , I told you , where else could we go  .“
She took off her apron and said ,
“Ok then . I’ll guess we’re stuck here then . Tell everyone there’s food on the table and let them know after breakfast there’s a lot of work to be done around the place today”

With that she headed out from the kitchen and into the shed .

As we all ate the pancakes I thought about how times had changed for us and how we learnt to adapt and adjust like Mother nature does to the bushfires and the drought . The gumtrees need the fires to help germinate to seeds for them to regrow and in the desert the plants send their roots deeper down waiting for the monsoon rains to come and then we can see flowers blooming  in the desert .  

 

Funny how things happen . From adversity there is often a sense of humour that comes Recently I wrote a letter to a TV Show in the city where I invited  them to come to our property for a home cooked breakfast and I signed the letter from a famer who wants some rain ,

I still remember the day all those media people arrived with their cameras and how Mum had to cook up a breakfast for 60 people , I still don’t know how she ever did that but there was more than enough food to go around .

About a week later we had some offers of assistance and as few large cash donations that came to help us with the hard times on the farm .

After the bushie breakfast was broadcast we all felt like celebrities for a while,

Mum came back from the shed . She stood staring at me with this look on her face . She never spoke , I could tell there was something

:What’s wrong Mum .“ I said .

“Its happened . .”: She replied .

“What’s happened  Mum ?” I said .

“Its starting to rain “ She screamed .

I ran outside and there we all stood  . We started to sing and dance and scream and shout as the rain came tumbling down .   

Who knows how or why things happen but after the drought breaking rain I contacted the TV show again to thank them for coming and also I invited them back to the farm again .

Maybe it was providence but they said how they all loved Mums pancakes and that they would love to return to the farm . 

The rain never stopped and on the morning that the TV crew were arriving . I had welcome home to farm posters made up and Mum was busy cooking her pancakes .

I was astounded when truck after truck rolled in with people coming from everywhere . The trucks unloaded a score of advanced grown Mango Trees and workers to plant them around our property .

 That moment was captured live on cameras by the TV show and the response was amazing from all over the country .Our mango orchard appeared right before our eyes as the water began to trickle again along Dry desert gum River . I stood there with Mum and we were both burst out laughing as little nipper walked over to us in my old work boots asking what he could do to help .

Families like us are lucky I guess, living on the land in the good and bad times that come . Nothing is ever more reassuring as the help we get from others who understand the struggle we face and the want to help us through .

Mum and I tasted our first crop  of mangos and they were the sweetest harvest we had ever grown . The future on the farm looks good with many  thanks to our good  friends all over the country .

Life on the farm is good and so are the mangos too.

The End

By Paul McCann