Butcherin' in the Bush.

[Rimeriter]

Butcherin’ in the Bush.

Me dad, ‘e was a butcher in the bush before the war
jist after the depression, before market’n was the score,
before red meat was packaged in a film of clear clingwrap,
before a bloke jist ‘ad to cook - in a microwave - poor chap !


I remembers at the sale yards almost each and every week
where I jist ‘ad to look and learn, ‘ardly allowed to speak,
where dad would do the bidd’n while mum served at the shop
and ‘iffen I was lucky, might get a lollipop.

When the sale was over that’s when the work begun
because after killin’ cattle each one ‘ad ter be ‘ung
then skinned and sliced, sawed and ‘acked
to shoulders, legs and sides,
then put in to the coolroom after stretchin’ out the ‘ides.

Flies were mostly friendly, they’d ‘ang around all day,
we did’n ‘ave the aerosol to send ‘em on their way,
we’d put up sticky, curly strips ‘angin’ everywhere,
poor ol’ mum would be relieved, not surrender to despair
for steaks and chops and sausages ‘angin’ from steel ‘ooks
or plucked and dressed white leghorns, known to all as ‘chooks’.

Course, as I got older I usta ‘elp me dad
servin’ in the butcher shop, becomin’ a - ‘bit of a lad’
weighin’ up the prime mince, jokin’ the local bum,
lookin’ after Mrs Jones but never weighin’ me thumb.

That’s on account.

They all would say,
I’ll hafta pay another day.
What could a poor ol’ butcher do
to keep ‘is wolves at bay.

(c). Rimeriter. 11/2/03.
Revised 25/7/12.

[Neville Briggs]

weighin’ up the prime mince

and we've got a prime mincer now, with red hair.

[Maureen K Clifford]

Neville!! Shame

Hey Jim that's a good one - enjoyed the read. Do you know those fly strips are almost impossible to buy now - I came across some in an old very quaint store out at Inglewood one time and took the whole two boxes that they had, but once they were gone they were gone. Blowies used to descend on us in droves every time we had to butcher a beast - be it roo, or sheep or goat.

Cheers

Maureen

[Dennis N O'Brien]

Yeah good one Jim.
We used to have those sticky fly strips hanging above the dinner table
in the kitchen of the farm house - covered in dead and dying flies.

[Bob Pacey]

Jim one of your best mate. I worked in a butcher shop as my first part time job I was in charge of making the sausages ( don't eat them now) and cleaning out the waste sump at the back of the shop, had to stand in it to bail it out twas a lovely job.

I lost the job when they locked me in the cold room one day as a joke and I threw a fit and bashed the little window in the door out with a meat hook.

Ahhhh Memories.



Bob

[Rimeriter]

"Thanks everyone".
The essence of this tale was triggered by visiting my birthplace (2793) a few years back.
( I think I may have posted it earlier, I've lost track and the grey matter does not work as well as it once did.)

Along with a few other people, I got to yarn with Spud, the butcher.
He was a mine of information and a bloody nice bloke.

[Neville Briggs]

It's just a little play on words Maureen. Prime Minister...prime mincer.


Jim, I sometimes think about how the meat was delivered to the " butcher shop" in a big unrefridgerated truck. The back of the truck was left open with all the carcasses dangling on hooks and delivery man decked out in overalls and a canvas cap and with a bib thing on his neck would man handle the carcasses one at a time from truck to shop across the footpath. The butcher shop man used to give us kids a few pence if we brought him a pile of old newspapers used for wrapping the meat as he sold it.
And the floor of the shop was hygenically covered in a layer of clean sawdust to hide any gunk that fell from the meat.

[thestoryteller]

The old butcher was always a good source of pocket money as he took all your old newspapers.

Worked out at Roma slaughtering for a Butcher for a while and worked at the meatworks over the years at different times.

My great uncle Dan Callaghan had Butcher shops at Yelarbon and Boggabilla and was known from time to time to have Christmas turkey specials but one old dear wised
up when he forgot to cut the feet off the ibis and smartly returned it with a few choice words to boot.

Always loved the sign in the Butcher shop which read - Credit Extended to all folk over 90 accompanied by a Parent.

[Rimeriter]

Well Storyteller,
yours appears to be more factual and less of a story than mine.

Thanks for your input.
Jim.

[thestoryteller]

I can remember sittin in the bush Jim and looking forward to devouring a steak, peas, tomato and eggs but had troble seeing it all for the flies.

It was a case of figuring out what you wanted to eat and get the eating gear ready and then a big brush across the plate and go for your life.

Still managed a bit foreign protein despite that at times.

When I was in New Guinea the local outdoor markets had meat on display hanging on stick racks and the vendor came across occassionally to move the flies on.
Far cry from the regulations you have to follow today.

Take care mate.