Spring had arrived in the valley. Trees burst from bud into flower and everything started to take on the same shade of bright verdant green. Birthdays in Hundeerde were marked by birth-season, rather than by specific day. With the arrival of spring, tonight it was Lewis’ turn to be remembered. His choice for dinner was build-your-own burgers and chunky farmhouse wedges, seasoned with Charlie’s very own special mix of herbs and spices.
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Grandpa Jake stamped the snow off his boots as he came inside and hung the Hundeerwagon keys back on the hook. He and Daan had been up since dawn assessing the road. It had snowed all night and it was still snowing heavily. No-one would be going anywhere; the road was completely impassable, even for the six-wheel-drive Hundeerwagons.
Angus, also up since dawn, had his nose pressed against the window, making quite the foggy smeary mess. He was beyond excited. By the time the rest of the boys had come down for breakfast he was practically vibrating through the glass. Nobody had told him it might be a snow day, but he just seemed to know and he couldn’t wait to get outside and play in the snow.
Fifteen expectant faces at the breakfast table were awaiting Grandpa Jake’s verdict.
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The bell rang and the general stampede of seat finding was underway. Lewis had already found a seat next to Hans near the front. Seb and Raven worked their way down the room and found seats together, towards the back. In the empty seat next to Seb, a blue heeler sat down. He clearly considered that school ties should be left alone to do their own thing, along with shirt tails.
He turned to Seb his mouth open just a little and his tongue in mid pant.
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The week following the Harvest Dinner, the first day of the new school term was rapidly approaching. It had been three years since any of the boys had attended school. Some of the boys could not wait to return to school, while others were a bit more apprehensive about the whole idea. Rupert’s biggest concern had been whether the school uniform pants had tail holes in them or not. Grandma Bella had been able to reassure him, that the school had arranged for a bespoke set of pants to be made to suit human specifications. No tail holes. Rupert had been visibly relieved at the news.
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Harvest was the time of year that needed all paws and hands to help. The boys were eager to help and Grandpa Jake had allocated the boys different areas of responsibility. In the large kitchen garden one group helped to dig potatoes, pull carrots and collect pumpkins. Another group harvested the very last of the beans and tomatoes.
Then there was the orchard. The summer peaches had finished, but now the apples were ready. All the boys were needed to help. They climbed up and down ladders, picking apples from the highest branches, filling their picking bags. It was quickly established that Angus and Fergus were a liability attempting to carry a loaded basket of apples, as more than one load ended up back on the ground. Fergus also developed a mysterious stomach ache, probably something to do with eating more apples than he actually put in the basket.
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Raven was back in the workshop early after breakfast. Daan had been showing him how to make a small hole in each stone for the string. Each stone was held securely in a vice, one by one, and carefully and slowly drilled with a press to make the hole. Daan encouraged Raven to not rush the process. It was exacting work, needing careful concentration and attention to detail, at every step. The one stone that was critical to get right was the red stone from Earth. If it cracked or broke while drilling, or the hole was drilled in the wrong place there was no way to replace it.
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Charlie was busy cutting up vegetables for the chicken and vegetable soup that would be for lunch. They were all going into the enormous stock pot on the stove. They had discussed at length all of the ingredients that would go into the soup, the stock, the vegetables and the cut of chicken. Exactly how it would be made, and how long it would take to cook. Rebecca was impressed at his questions, his answers to hers and his knowledge.
Rebecca observed him slicing and dicing the onions. Cut in half, precision parallel cuts and then a quick flick of his wrist ninety degrees to dice them into the smallest of pieces.
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Headwall Station comprised the whole valley on both sides of the Grey River, all the way from Veldmeer to the Headwall homestead at the headwall cwm. It was a peak big-sky midsummer day, the sun rising high and warming everything that it touched. The rings were just faintly visible if you squinted.
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Breakfast was just about to wrap up; the last of another enormous stack of toast and an equally high stack of pancakes had been systematically decimated.
Angus stood up with his glass and a fork. He then decided he needed some more height so he stood on the bench, almost spilling his orange juice in the process.
Grandma Bella frowned.
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The sun had barely peeped above the headwall, when Charlie woke. The house was still dark and quiet, as Charlie pulled on some clothes and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The light Rebecca had left on the night before was still burning as he crept in. He took in the scrubbed wooden table in the centre, the gleaming pans hanging from hooks on the rafters and the enormous range still faintly warm from the night before. Everything ready for another day of feeding a house full of hungry mouths.
A voice came from behind him.
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Screw Pile Developments 