In 1995 Daisy Meginley relayed this story for the Grazier publica tion “The Good Old Days” Hard work, dances and a wonderful life. That is how Daisy Meginley describes her life ‘on the irrigation blocks’.

As a member of the large Jarratt family and part of a close-knit community, life was full, never dull and filled with dances and happy memories. But it was work before play, Daisy remembers.

“My father had a small dairy farm out on the irrigation blocks. “He sold the milk in town for three pence a pint and the cream to the but ter factory. When my brothers left home to find jobs us girls had to bring in the cows and help Dad milk and separate. I can also remember raking hay when I was still young. My brother Geoff drove the horse while I pushed the pedal for the rake. Sometimes we made our butter by shaking the scalded cream in big gold en syrup tins. We had to run around the house and shake the tins all day long, until the butter was ready. But there was still time for play and because it was such a close-knit com munity we had a lot of fun.”

Like other children in the areas they went to school by horse and sulky. “Unless Dad was away and Mum was pregnant again. then we had to walk three miles to school. Sport was played on the ‘Irrigation’ where we had our own sports club. We played hockey, cricket and bas ketball.

I remember the time we played bas ketball for the high school and I received my ‘Blue”, but sadly my par ents did not have the money to pay for it, so I received it in theory only.” (A “Blue” is a sporting award of high distinction - Ed) Social life out on the irrigation blocks revolved around the communi ty’s pride and joy - the corrugated iron building named The Giggle Hall. It was build by the Irrigation com munity with money raised from cake competitions, queen contests and housie-housie (bing) nights. “The hall got its name from the townspeople,” Daisy said.

“They often used to come to our social nights, and we must have been a very happy lot, for they named our building The Giggle Hall, and it stuck. We had wonderful times; Dad played the button accordion and mouth organ and Mum the piano. We all learned to dance in the hall, paying threepence a week to go towards electricity. A neighbour Mrs Williams, an English lady, helped pre pare us for concerts and Mrs Headon and Mrs Davies taught Sunday School. We had Sunday School in the old church on Kangaroo Lane. The building is gone but the peppercorn trees which surrounded the church still stand. Mr Mackie, the Presbyterian Minister, used to come out from town once a week, and we had Sunday School every week. After Sunday School we had sport all afternoon.” Daisy was 16 when she had her first social outing to the ‘big lights’. “In those days young people went where their parents went. Friday nights were usually set aside for for mal balls where we would wear our long frocks and dance the night away in the old Memorial Hall. And then there were suppers afterwards. They were wonderful, wonderful days. There were few roads in those days, but if you wanted to go to the ball, you’d put on your gumboots, take a lantern and away you’d go. I also remember the Guy Fawkes and Empire Day cracker nights, which inevitably ended with a great big feast prepared by one of the mothers in the neighbourhood.” A highlight for the family was the purchase of a car, an Overland. “Mum learnt to drive, but never had a licence. I remember her driving into the railway gates while the trains were shunting. Some of my best memories are the family gatherings at grandma’s place. There were droves of us, and while the women were in the kitchen, the men and children were outside playing cricket. These days people arrive at each other’s place armed with an esky and stubbie holder. And the kids are too often not a part of the social outing.”