Grace, Carole and I used to graze sheep on our family farm at Goomalibee. We conducted this small enterprise by each contributing an equal amount of labour, veterinary charges, shearing, crutching, dipping, haymaking, wool pressing, woolclassing, wool brokering, and so on.
The 300 sheep produced 10 bales, or approximately 2,000 kilos, of wool. This 19 micron wool would realize about $10.00 per kilo – a total of $2,000, or about $600, each.
The wool was sold over a period of a few weeks during which, by remembering to time time my ‘run’ right with the wool sale schedule, the wool made the $10.00 per kilo, or thereabouts.
I divided the proceeds with my two partners, which all went well.
In 1988 73 year old Grace, who was born in the year of the ANZACs, 1915, did a stint in the Benalla hospital. When I went to see her in hospital she had her farm book-keeping books with her. I thought she was pretty smart to remember the book-keeping books, even being in hospital.
All went well – I banked Grace’s money for her and I banked Carole and my share.
A few weeks later I ran into Grace as I was going about my jobs on the farm. She had an envelope in her hand, which she handed to me.
Enclosed in the envelope was a cheque for $1,200. I asked her why there was so much money in the envelope and she replied that I had been a good son-in-law and should be a recipient of some of the work I had completed.
Having established that I was to accept Grace’s cheque, we then discussed what I might spend it on. Grace suggested that I might buy myself an Italian pure wool suit.
During the course of the following month Carole and I found ‘the very thing’ in David Jones, Melbourne. It was a blue single breasted suit tailored by Facis of Italy.
The suit, purchased in 1988 at a cost of $1000, still fits me.
I have had many ‘wears’ out of this wonderful suit, made out of similar wool to that of the 300 merino wethers we started with.
Over 27 years I have worn the suit to weddings, funerals, conferences, receptions and many other public gatherings.
The worst outing for the suit was our daughter’s wedding in a park at Pensacola Beach, Florida, in the rain and wind marking the start of the hurricane season. The suit was saturated, but fortunately came up ‘as new’ by the time of the reception.
Every time I take this suit out of the wardrobe I think of Grace, my wonderful mother in law, who was not only supportive but knew the value of wool.