Postcards from a liminal zone

THESE ARE THE twenty-two names in the great-great-grandfather’s bullock team: Rumbler, Rowdy, Trooper, Darlin, Bones, Jack, Tom, Cocky, Sailor, Brandy, Sharper, Fiddler, Foreman, Cherry, White, Mary, Bendit, Liftit, Scratchit, Fetchit, Bloomer, Yellowman. When this child was small, her grandfather – whom she called Gongi – told stories about his grandfather and his family. And about how, coincidentally, his wife gave birth to twenty-two children. They were property owners at a time when there was no electricity or running water, no telephones or cars, no handy medical services. The bullock team – steady, strong and reliable – pulled drays stacked high with bales of wool from the annual sheep shearing at each of the farms in the community. The bales each carried a brand to identify which grazier’s precious cargo was being hauled for sale. The quality of the wool determined the price received.