​When we bought our farm and moved to the country, people said we would never last.  Here we are 35 years later and still enjoying our life in the country.    We left behind all our friends and families to pursue a new and different life on the land. 

​Our farmhouse was located a long way from the main road and we were on a gravel road.  There were no neighbours within a few kilometres.  I always remember that at night there were no lights to be seen from neighbouring farms.  It wasn’t until several years later that houses were built near us.

Once at shearing time, a wife of one of the shearers suggested I join the local Craft Group.  I had always been interested in sewing and knitting, so this opportunity seemed just right for me.

I was lonely and needed some company.  I felt very isolated. There was always plenty to do on the farm, but company was what I was after.

I decided to go and investigate the Craft Group.  They met in an old school once a week and there were about 20 members.  Most of the members were farmers’ wives.  They were looking for company too. It was a lovely atmosphere, and I took my 12-month-old daughter, who played in a playpen.  They made such a fuss of her.  It was a great opportunity for me to meet new friends.  In January and February, it was too hot in our old schoolhouse as we had no air conditioning, so we took it in turns to meet at each other’s homes. 

As it worked out, I am still going to the Greta Craft Group some 34 years later.  We have seen so many ladies come and go. 

Over the years we have learnt many new skills including weaving, patchwork, dying, crocheting to name a few.  We do a lot of fundraising for different charities and make things like Carebears for children, Breast Cushions for cancer patients, Fiddle Muffs for dementia patients and many other community projects.  We always participate in the Cancer Big Morning Tea. 

We recently had our old school hall examined and it was deemed unsafe.  We must move as the school is being demolished. The CFA, who are next door, have funding to build a small hall, so we will be able to share the hall with them.  It will be very sad leaving our old school hall, as we have so many lovely memories there.

​The original school was built in 1874.  It was called the Hanson Primary School but was renamed the Greta Primary School around 1883.  It served the local farming families in the Greta district.   It closed in 1983 due to declining student numbers.  The Craft Group took over in the early 1990’s.

Unfortunately, our numbers are declining, and we have only 11 members now.  At one time we had 40 and were knocking back new members.  How times have changed. 

I am so lucky I took the plunge and joined my local Craft Group.  I have made lasting friends for life, who share a permanent, lifelong bond.

Robyn Desmier
​August 2026

​“Fish out of water” is an understatement, “Taking the plunge” could possibly apply, but nothing can better describe my, mercifully short stint, as a teacher at what was then still “Wangaratta High” than “Life and other catastrophes”

1986, and I had just sold “That Bookshop”. Like “Good Reading” it was located in Benalla but sold new, rather than second hand books. I had been lucky throughout my working career that I always seemed to be able to change jobs when one became too routine.  Post “That Bookshop” this sadly  no longer applied. Within the small world of public libraries, I had justifiably been tagged a “short stayer”, which I was. I liked applying for neglected libraries needing  TLC, once that was done, boredom set in. It is ironical that in these days of short-term contracts, I was warned by one employer that I  needed to settle down or I would become unemployable.  Which is what indeed happened.

The money from the sale of the bookshop was running out and there were very few local jobs suitable to my qualifications.  Thus, when Wangaratta High advertised for an Italian teacher, I applied.

I had graduated with a degree in Latin and ancient Greek, sub major in Italian, which was not very conducive to employment. Searching for a career,  I read John Holt and other progressive educators, who inspired me to teach. My teaching rounds while qualifying for my Dip. Ed. warned me that I was not a teacher, and until then I had managed to avoid the classroom.

But in 1986, more than the classroom, I wanted to avoid Centrelink. As the only applicant I got the job.

The students learning Italian were handpicked at the end of year eight to start in year nine. They were a lovely group, but were also very aware that they were “la crème de la crème”.  The year 11  class was very small as only handful of students had chosen to continue with Italian. Amongst them was a girl who made it abundantly clear that I could never replace her previous teacher, on whom she’d obviously had a crush, and remained a sullen face for the whole time I was there. In that same class was the son of a friend of mine. Unlike the girl, he was very protective.

Mercifully my teaching career lasted only two terms. One day I received a phone call from my old employer, Moonee Valley Regional Library. I had worked for that Library service as children’s librarian at Fawkner Library. I was offered a job as branch librarian at Fawkner Library, part time if that was what I preferred.

“Yes Please. Part time.”

“Would you like to think about it?”

“No, when would you like me to start?”

The irony with this offer, is that staff didn’t last at the Fawkner Library because it was next to Fawkner Tech. and was thus inundated with students at lunch time and after school. Ironically, I never had an issue with them and often found myself helping them with their homework,  listening to their woes or just talking to them.

Fawkner Library was one of the nicest libraries I’ve worked at. It had a large Italian community that spoiled the library staff rotten, with food plates and home - grown veggies; it was also home to old fashioned aussies: people who had lived through the depression, the war and were just gorgeous human beings; it also had one of the best shopping centres I’ve encountered. It was only the length of a small street, but it had everything one needed, every shop  first rate.
​
I have had a wonderful working life, strictly speaking not over, as I am still running Good Reading. The shop front carries a caveat sign: “Open by appointment”. This leaves me free to have coffee with friends, and of course attend U3A classes.
 
Dedicated to my Guardian Angel ...


Delfina Manor
August 2026

I was nearly eighteen, but felt unsettled in my life. Being an only child didn’t help, as I felt alone most of the time.

Work was my solace. I had a lovely friend called Janice. We talked about our dreams during our lunch break, we both wanted to travel. Janice  fancied Canada, but I felt tempted by the warmth of Australia.
 
Janice was very attractive, nearly 6ft. tall, and her make-up always perfectly applied. We worked in Cornhill, London, and most Friday nights we would take ourselves up to the West End, where all the restaurants and shows were. Indian food usually got the nod, as it was the cheapest for two to share. We checked the shows, and often were given cheaper seats that hadn’t been sold. Later we would make our way to Liverpool Street Station. Janice going north bound, and me, four stations south.
 
Our work days were fun, as we sat and planned our future during every break. It was a secret world of dreams.

Neither of us had spoken to anyone about our yearning to travel. Our summer had been exceptionally bad in 1960, and Janice had decided that Australia was beginning to excite her. Next thing I knew, we were standing on the steps of Australia House. On entering, we were ushered to the front desk, and asked how they could help us. In unison we said, “We would like to talk to someone about emigration”. Australia needed young women like us, we were told. Before we knew it, we were ushered into another room, interviewed, then sent upstairs for a medical. No one asked about our parents, or if we had approval. Janice was eighteen two weeks prior and my birthday was only a few weeks away.
 
We both wanted to do nursing.  The Officer said we would be given a letter of introduction to the Nursing Association and they would provide board for us. It all seemed so easy. My birthday, the 13th of September, was memorable. Mum had collected my birthday cards, and amongst them was a manilla envelope. I discreetly put it in my handbag, and headed for work.

Janice greeted me at the door, and we headed for the ladies. We both had passed our medical, and were given a sailing date. The first week in October, on the Fairsky. Panic set in, our families had no idea, and we had so little time to get ready. Our work ethics suffered that day. Both leaving early, sick to our stomachs.

Mum and Dad were shocked with my news, but couldn’t shake my determination. With heavy hearts they gave in. My planned 18th birthday party, became a “Goodbye’ one.
 
By the 1st of October, Janice and I had left our bank jobs in preparation for the trip. The day before the ship was to leave, I received a phone call from Janice’s mother. Janice  wasn’t going to be there. I asked to speak to her, but she wouldn’t put her on the phone. I was devastated.
 
Mum and Dad tried very hard to change my mind, but as scared as I was, I was determined to follow my dream, and take the plunge.
 
Jan Nichols.
August 2026

“You cannot know what life will bring, but sometimes taking a risk brings great rewards.” 

These were the last words from a piece of fiction I wrote a few years ago – on the topic of risk.  But it is true in real life.  There are many risks we take, some minor, others major and life changing.  The two major risks that we have taken in recent years (10-11 years) were retirement and moving to Benalla.

Firstly, retirement.  It had not been the plan at the time.  Tim had been planning to retire at the end of the year, by which time he would be 61.  I had said that while I was contributing to the organisation, while I was achieving something, then I would stay.  One of the major issues was that it was not clear as to whether we would have enough to live on if we both gave up work at the same time.  And what would I do with my time?  On the other hand, I was working some long hours in a role that was in some ways quite stressful – I was tired.  It was up to one of my teams (and so final responsibility sat with me) to confirm that new computer applications were ready to “go live” in the ATO.  Certainly the final decision was not with my team, but the decision around yes or no would be made on our assessment.  We had to confirm the teams building the systems had done everything, including that the systems were working accurately.  Think about the Centrelink problems recently.  If we got it wrong, the ATO would have had the same level of public criticism.
​
The offer for both of us to take a redundancy at the same time came out of the blue on a Friday afternoon preceding a long weekend.  So we had a weekend to decide whether to look further into what the redundancy would mean for us.  At our ages it did mean retirement.  We decided to “wing it” and accept the redundancy packages we were offered.  And it has worked well for us.

Of course, then there was the question as to what to do in retirement.  Another risk: sell up in Canberra and move to Benalla.  This provided a couple of pluses, but some negatives.

Our daughter and her two children lived in Melbourne.  This move meant we were much closer and able to see them more regularly as well as help if necessary.  And the largest Gliding Club in Australia was right on the edge of the town for Tim.  But what could I do with no work and basically knowing no-one in town?  But we did it anyway.  And between voluntary activities around town, and joining U3A, I have a full life.

So the unknowns we risked were:

• Could we live on the income streams that we would be receiving?
• What would a move to Benalla mean financially and socially?

But we did it and have not looked back.


Joy Shirley
​April 2020

In 2002, whilst working as a Laboratory Technician at a school, I contracted Shingles.  Fortunately, my doctor picked it up early and I ended up with a mild dose.  However it did leave my feeling rundown, so I decided to access some long service leave and attach it to the first term holidays.  My plan was to retreat to our house near Tatong and vegetate. 

My husband, who was working in Melbourne, suggested I visit my parents in Ireland.  Although I had travelled overseas on several occasions I was always accompanied and was unsure whether I was capable of travelling alone.   Encouraged by my Better Half I decided to take the plunge. 

Initially, I contacted my parents who were delighted.  The next day, Tuesday, I visited Flight Centre on my way home from work.  An hour later I left with an airline ticket in my hand and a flight booked for the following Friday, Good Friday.  The great advantage of this was that I had little time to reconsider. 

Friday morning came and I nervously said goodbye at Tullamarine.  My flight was with JAL, Japan Airlines, and involved an overnight stay in Tokyo before flying on to London and then to Dublin.  

The first leg of the flight went very smoothly, but when we arrived at Narita Airport, near Tokyo, there was chaos.  Japan was preparing to host the Socccer World Cup later on that year so they were practising security measures, adding to the time taken for us to be processed through Immigration.  

Once through we were taken by bus to our hotel.  The room I was allotted was lovely, with my own bathroom and very comfortable bed.  What more could one desire?

Next morning, after a very leisurely breakfast, we were herded onto buses for the trip to the airport.  About halfway there the bus was stopped and three uniformed men boarded to check our passports - this was part of their training for the Big Event.  As the bus was very crowded they asked for two or three of us to step outside.  I bravely volunteered and then spent four or more anxious minutes outside before we were invited back on board, to be greeted by applause from our fellow travellers.

The Tokyo to London leg of the trip was peaceful.  Heathrow Airport was frantic with people going in all directions.  I was relieved to eventually make my way to the nethermost regions and my Dublin flight.

I arrived in Dublin after dark where I was met by my brother, Jim, who drove me to my parents house in Co. Kilkenny.  I spent a lovely three weeks with my parents and catching up with other family.

I returned to Australia feeling relieved but proud that I had taken the plunge and travelled overseas on my own in my late fifties.  As a result I was able to make several trips to spend time with my parents before their deaths, something I had never envisioned myself doing.

A good lesson learned.

Winging It or Taking the Plunge usually leads to the realisation of a hidden quality or capability.


Margaret McCrohan
​April 2020

In 1973 my husband and I had four young children. We had come to Australia a few years previously and we were anxious to become financially secure. With a young family, it was impossible for me to work, even if a married woman with four children could get a job in Brisbane at that time. Our best option was to buy a corner store. The plan was Sean would keep working and I was to run the shop.
 
The shop had living accommodation attached and a large garden for the children to play. Everything looked promising. But, like all great plans, there were snags. We didn’t find out until after we had bought the shop that the milk was delivered at 4.00am and it had be taken in and put in the fridge immediately. Health inspectors frequently followed the milk delivery truck to ensure this law was followed.
 
The Newspapers and magazines were delivered at 6.00am and while they could be dropped off outside the shop, it was necessary to take them in and write the names of the people who had orders, on them. It would never do if someone was to miss out on his or her paper because we had oversold.
 
The shop opened at 7.00am. There would be people waiting for the shop to open. They wanted their newspapers, cigarettes or a Bex and Coke. It was amazing how many people were addicted to Vincent’s and Bex powders mixed with Coca Cola.
 
Meanwhile my husband would get his breakfast and leave for work and I would juggle getting the two older children aged 5 and 7 ready for school as well as serving customers.
 
We soon discovered living at the back of the shop had problems. People would come to the back door long after we had closed for the day, asking to buy milk, bread, cigarettes, matches, postage stamps (we sold them as a service to the public, there was no mark-up on them), and whatever else disorganized people decided they needed.  The shop was open from 7.00am to 7.00pm seven days a week, but those hours were not long enough for some people.
 
We couldn’t live like that, so we bought a house further up the street to live in. That was a help. People didn’t expect us to go down the street and unlock the shop after hours, to sell them what they wanted.

Now we had two mortgages to repay and trying to live between two premises with small children was stressful.
 
We decided to sell the shop. An older married couple were interested in buying but they were unable to get finance until they sold their house. We leased it to them giving them first option to purchase when their house sold. A year passed and their house was still on the market.
 
We had a dream of living on acreage. One Saturday my husband sale a house on 25 acres for auction, advertised in the ‘Courier Mail’. It sounded just what we would like but my practical husband said we could not consider it. We already had two mortgages. However, one afternoon I put the children in the car, a big old Valiant station wagon, and went to see the property. I liked it and I estimated it would be in our price range, that’s if we could get a loan from the bank.
 
After a lot of wheedling, I got Sean to reluctantly come and look at it. He liked it too but he said there was no way we could buy it.
 
The auction day came and I said we should go the auction to see what the selling price would be. A friend of Sean’s came with us.
 
The bidding started. There was a fair bit of interest but gradually bidders dropped out.  The next thing Sean was bidding. I was excited and tense. Maybe, just maybe, we would have the highest bid. Finally there was just another couple and Sean bidding. They had the highest bid and the Auctioneer was about to drop the hammer, when Sean made another bid. I learned afterwards that his mate had said ‘go one more’. The hammer dropped. We had to sign documents and pay ten percent deposit and we had 60 days to settle. We would lose that money if the bank wouldn’t give us a third loan.
 
The bank manager said they might consider giving us a bridging loan until our house or the shop sold. We had to wait for their decision.
 
We listed our house with a Real Estate Agent. I prayed and I had the children praying for the house to sell quickly or the shop leasees to buy the shop or the bank to give us the bridging loan.
 
A few days later, the Real Estate Agent phoned saying he wanted to take people to view our house. They arrived half an hour later, looked at the house and left. Shortly afterwards the Agent phoned again and said they have signed the contract. ‘Your house is sold’ he said. I was ecstatic.
 
Then the mail arrived. There were two letters. One from the bank saying the bridging loan had been approved and the other from the solicitor of the people leasing the shop saying they were now in a position to buy the shop. All that happened in one morning.

​Miracles do happen.


Elizabeth Kearns 
April, 2020

In 1965, as I filled out the preference sheet to go to University, I discovered many courses were blocked to me by a lack of prerequisite subjects.  I was becoming disillusioned.  

How could I go to university?  I had attended Malvern Girls Secondary School up to Year 11, a school amongst others established in Victoria in the post war period as domestic science schools for girls.  We were taught to be efficient wives and mothers!   The general maths, arithmetic oriented curriculum we were exposed to aimed to fit us for domestic life.  We did not study languages but emerged with the capacity to iron a man’s shirt in seven steps; cook specialities such as tongues in aspic; weave shawls and cushion covers; make smocked babies dresses and embroider using skills such as Florentine work; shadow work and more.  The curriculum finished with the Leaving Certificate at Year 11, that is, if we continued past Proficiency (Year 9) or Intermediate (Year 10), perhaps with a view to studying nursing or go on to further studies at the Emily McPherson Domestic Science College.  if we wanted to go to University or Teachers’ College we would need to complete Year 12 at a different school. 

Now, almost having completed Year 12 at Oakleigh High School, preference forms in front of me, Social Work at Melbourne University was clearly my first preference and duly placed in first position on the form. 

What to put next?  The Arts faculty, with such exciting prospects, was ‘out’ – it had a foreign language prerequisite.  A Science degree was clearly not an option, though I had loved studying Biology in Years 11 and 12. 

What about Economics and Politics at nearby Monash University?  I had been fascinated by Economics in both Years 11 and 12.   It was exciting to discover maths was not a prerequisite! However, at least General Maths at Year 12 was ‘preferred’ and Calculus ‘highly recommended’.  Although perhaps a ‘long shot’ because of the recommendations regarding Maths, Economics and Politics at Monash was placed in second position on the form.  I investigated applying for a teaching studentship for a funded place for both the Bachelor of Economics and Politics Degree and Diploma of Education.

The results came out.  Thrilled at being offered Social Work at Melbourne University, I was disappointed to discover I could not commence until I turned 19, a year away.   My second choice and offer, Economics and Politics at Monash, was accepted, accompanied by the Education Department teaching studentship (and three-year bond) which would make me more independent of my family.   I was off to University!

 ‘If you can’t differentiate, you may as well leave now’ stated the Dean during our orientation. 
I didn’t even know what ‘differentiate’ meant, at least in the mathematical sense!  But…I had nowhere else to go!   

For first two years, I ‘winged it’ for much of the way! 

I winged it when completing a ‘remedial’ maths unit for Economics students who needed more maths.  I winged it when studying Economic Statistics and other units throughout what was then becoming a more mathematically oriented course. 

I winged it in the accounting subjects.  Unlike many other students, I had not completed foundation studies in bookkeeping and accountancy at school.   Decluttering recently, I came across ‘Cost Accounting’ by Gordon and Shillinglaw, my text for Accounting IIA.  As I browsed through it, strangulating memories of trying to conceptualise its content when I was 19 and of ‘winging it’ when applying what I had tried to understand during the Cost Accounting examination, were triggered. 

It wasn’t until third year that I became fully engaged with and enjoyed most units, though ‘Agricultural Economics’ was particularly challenging as it required more advanced maths. 

Studying the Diploma of Education at Monash the following year proved a better ‘fit’ for me, with the maths I’d picked up while studying Economics overcoming any problems I may otherwise have had in this area.  I loved the Diploma of Education curriculum, particularly the Methods of Teaching Economics unit, and thoroughly enjoyed my teaching placements, if slightly overwhelmed at times.  If ever a job needs a capacity to wing it – it’s teaching! 

In 1992, after a rewarding career of over 20 years with the Education Department I decided upon a mid-life career change, returning to study Social Work as a mature age student at Melbourne University.  Social Work proved a wonderful fit reflected in academic results--I very rarely felt as if I was ‘winging it’!.  It led on ­to six years ‘in the field’ as a practising Social Worker (I quite often felt as if I was ‘winging it’!), followed by over ten years teaching Community Services work at TAFE. 

Seen in retrospect, I’m glad that I took the plunge and studied Economics at Monash as a young adult, despite often ‘winging it’.  I gradually developed confidence in areas which challenged me and have been able to add depth to my knowledge base over time.  I’m proud that I graduated as a Bachelor of Economics and Politics in 1969, proud that I was exposed to the progressive academics teaching at Monash University in its early years.
 
What a great start studying Economics and Politics at Monash proved to be to a lifetime which, viewed in retrospect, has continued to require the skills, understanding, capacity and resilience—to 'wing it’!
 
Beverley Lee
April 2020

Twice in my lifetime I have taken the plunge in regard to employment.

I had worked for 16 ½ years in secure employment and felt that I was getting nowhere. So, I took the plunge and moved to an insurance career.

The results were dramatic. I was not at all suited to my new job and struggled from the word “go”.

After 12 months of frustration, and without another job to go to, I gave notice of termination of my employment. This time I had really taken the plunge.

I unsuccessfully followed up “vacancy” advertisements in the papers. I had an acquaintance who was in business as a Chartered Accountant and it occurred to me that he may have a client looking for staff.  Accordingly, I contacted him and to my surprise he offered me a job with him.  I gratefully accepted.

After working for him for twelve months I commenced studying accountancy by correspondence. It was a very demanding course, but after six and a half years I had qualified as a member of the Australian Society of Accountants.  After a further six months I had graduated as a Chartered Accountant.

I recalled a specialist in my earlier life advising me to “study accountancy and work for yourself”.  And so the time had come!

I purchased a half share in the accounting business that I was working for and remained there as a principal for over 20 years.

The venture succeeded and guaranteed me of a successful career.
​
 
Ray O’Shannessy
​1st April 2020