No. 36 – (Report from Martin Maclennan, our Baker in Chief)
Ian Riches and Martin MacLennan have just returned from the North, and once again the spirit of Farina has woven its magic.
Martin would like to thank all those fellow volunteers that worked together to spread the load and create the wonderful memories.
This year (2014) has seen a large increase in turnover / profit that has proven the restoration program self-sustaining as we maximise the potential of the new food van and marquee.
It is important that the history of the real bakery remains the focal point of the visit, and Margaret Blackman worked tirelessly and with good humour to ensure that the history was passed on. The entries in the visitor book which have been copied and provided to the Secretary pay testament to the job that Margaret did.
Martin would like all the bakers out there to consider what, if any part they would like to play next year and advise accordingly so that he can begin work on the roster for 2015.
To avoid having to rise early every morning in 2015 we will implement a rotating roster where one baker starts with support at 5.00am and the other takes over at 10.00am and vice versa the following day. Where any baker wants to work for two weeks we will ensure there is a two day break over the middle weekend.
We now also have a Facebook page! Farina Restoration Group Inc
The now annual cricket match and social weekend celebrates the many years of cricket played at Farina against teams from Beltana, Copley and Marree, usually followed by a dance.
(See newspaper article at the bottom of Citizen stories)
Cricket matches at Farina have been noted by Rob Olston, in his book Farina – From Gibbers to Ghost Town, as early as 1887.
One of Farina’s visitors this year was Ian Bidstrup who was moved to write the following poem.
FARINA v THE WORLD
It was outback at Farina that a cricket match was played,
Where Farina V the World teams talents were displayed,
A record crowd attended, and under cool and cloudy skies,
Lunch was served before the game of home-made finger buns and pies.
The World team was a mixture of some who’d played a match or two,
The rest shanghaied or volunteered, to them the game was something new,
Umpires were selected, and with their counting stones in hand,
Staggered to the pitch to start the game, and at each end took a stand.
Farina’s team consisted of men and women off the land,
They took to the field undaunted by the pools of water, rocks, and sand,
Their casual reassurance was a worry, they carried with them cans of beer,
As their batsmen strode onto the pitch they gave a sort of leer.
Their opener was resplendent in moleskins and big bush hat,
Long and lean and confident, and a dab hand with the bat,
He hammered runs around the field, hit balls up to the sky,
His team mates followed nicely and set the run rate high.
When the World team finally went in to bat it, was clear they were outclassed,
Their days of playing winning cricket was a memory long past,
Some say it’s not the winning, but the way you play the game,
But losing to Farina’s lot, well somehow it’s just not the same.
As wickets crashed around us we were stumped, run-out and caught,
Hit by balls in places that we never thought we aught,
We came off with cuts and bruises, but still with heads held high,
It wouldn’t do to let the locals see the World team cry.
Was it only 20 overs each, it seemed like much much more,
Today my body’s not the same, every muscle’s stiff and sore,
The game was played with passion, by no means were we disgraced,
Although we had the will to win, our talent was misplaced.
© 2014 Ian Bidstrup