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  • Format: ePub

When the elderly recluse Ebenezer Gower died he left his run down Sherbert Valley farm in north Queensland and all his worldly wealth to the Parish of the Upper Sherbert, his idea being that a small agricultural high school be established there for the boys of the area. The most valuable part of the bequest was a parcel of coarse gold concentrate, gold that looked as if it had come from the Sherbert Valley. But the Sherbert Valley alluvials had been worked out in the eighteen nineties ... and this was reef gold.
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A lighthearted look at life and other
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Produktbeschreibung
When the elderly recluse Ebenezer Gower died he left his run down Sherbert Valley farm in north Queensland and all his worldly wealth to the Parish of the Upper Sherbert, his idea being that a small agricultural high school be established there for the boys of the area. The most valuable part of the bequest was a parcel of coarse gold concentrate, gold that looked as if it had come from the Sherbert Valley. But the Sherbert Valley alluvials had been worked out in the eighteen nineties ... and this was reef gold.
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A lighthearted look at life and other extracurricular activities at a small bush high school in north Queensland during the mid nineteen-fifties. Forget Adrian Mole and the Boy Wizard. Forget Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. This is a true-blue Aussie kid describing real Aussie adventures ... and only exaggerating slightly.
But this is no children's book. This is a good honest Aussie yarn for anyone from eleven to eleventy. I mean check out the solid gold reviews.
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"Ay. She'sa not too bad, I reckon." (Pietro Spinelli, Anakie Gemfields, Qld.)

"This towering um...'work', is erm..." (Ron Bruise, The Birdsville Times Literary Supplement.)

"Gracious luvvey, it cheered me up no end it did." (Marge Trundle, rooms cleaned and general domestic duties. No Sundays.)


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Autorenporträt
There's not a lot to tell really, though on reflection, looking back on it through the lens of one's recollections and memories, the whole business seems more akin to an extended Huckleberry Finn adventure, but set in the vastness of Central Australia.

Born, raised and schooled in Alice Springs; taken from the leafy glades of learning mid-way through Year-eight to work at my father's remote little copper mine; later employed for some years driving his cattle-hauling road trains him having pioneered road trains and the cattle hauling business (see "Kurt Johannsen: A Son of the Red Centre").
Married in the fullness of time; built a bush homestead on the northern edge of the Simpson Desert and raised a family there, all while running a small tungsten mining business and provisioning the hundred or so Aboriginal people local to the area who adopted us.
Sold our mine and homestead a few years after the kids had flown the coop, acquired a forty foot (12m) touring coach, converted it into a big steel-wheel mobeel Palaise-de-passion motor home and took to the roads of this great land of Oz - in the main visiting our offspring (most of whom had moved to coastal regions), our grandchildren generally and a couple of great grandies - plus various friends and associates from years gone by.
Then, as time went by, my Bride my Precious Lamb and Flower of the Early Mid Morning contracted dementia and, after a period of steady but inevitable deterioration, she passed away from its effects aged 85 - in June 2018.
I don't write much any more, but I did convert a short fictional love poem written earlier into a summary of it all - our meeting, our life together and my current state of mind ... in 200 words.
"Life Sentence" it's called. It's in the list below. Please feel free to read it, with my compliments.
L.J.