By: Annie Greet18th Feb 2021 9:51AMMy father Alex Browne was first cousin of the Shillabeer famiy of ATTYFORD FARM and we used to spend a few days' holiday there most years (in the 1940s). The farm was mainly run by my spinster 2nd cousin (?) Dulcie Shillabeer, with her aged, no longer mentally spry mother (whom I called 'great-aunt') dispensing an occasional lace handkerchief to little children like myself. We all slept in a row of bedrooms in one buiding, and Aunt Dulcie cooked and served meals in the identical building opposite, across a narrow path. 'The kitchen', with one huge wooden table and trestles, was built for the seasonal influx of shearers when the farm had run sheep. The bedroom block had a small room at the end called 'the dairy', which housed a huge churn and smelt richly pf cream. We loved the butter Aunt Dulcie made, and she told us children to ask our local grocer in the suburbs for 'a pound of Woop-woop Station butter'. She seemed to enjoy the joke. I used to climb into a couple of ancient horse-drawn carriages in the adjoining stable block, not yet afraid of spiders but fascinated by the ancient straw breaking through the leather upholstery, Years later, I took my own two sons there, and they re-lived similar adventures. My older son fell out of the sprawling mulberry tree he was climbing, into the shallow creek running through the farm, and I remembered those beautiful pies Aunt Dulcie had made, mulberry pies with cream from the dairy, a Woop-woop station treat i can still taste today.