RANDOM REMINDER

Press, Volume CXI, Issue 32635, 17 June 1971, Page 14

RANDOM REMINDER

HOME ON THE RANGE

It would be the easiest of exercises to count on the fingers of one hand, friends and business associates who do not look forward with keen anticipation to their annual vacation and the pleasing prospect of "getting away from it all.” A strict interpretation of that phrase depends on so many factors. Such as, for example, matters of finance, the size and extent of one’s family involved in being transported from point A to point B, location of the new but temporary zone of battle, and more importantly, the season of the year in which the vacation is taken. Business executives, with very few exceptions, find it most convenient to take their annual break at the height of the sunniest season of the year, leaving their subordinates to choose others when the vagaries of the weather are much more pronounced. Those whose families include children of school age are irresistably drawn to beach holiday resorts and the lure of

sea, surf, sun and sand. But it seems that only those housewives living in more affluence than others, manage to shake off the shackles of their accustomed domestic

drudgery and find themselves confined to the culinary side of affairs in order to meet■ the enormously increased appetites of those near and dear to them. We cite the instance of a Christchurch man, a civil servant, who, obeying the dictum of departmental superiors, and his own conscience, was moved a further rung up the ladder on being transferred to Wellington. His holidays fell due shortly afterwards. He had been corresponding with a school pal for a number of years but their paths had never crossed during the intervening period. He and his wife were delighted at an invitation for their family of four to spend their vacation with his on a large farmland holding many miles inland from Tokomaru Bay. The trip by car was uneventful—an overnight stay in Napier and then the negotiation of hilly,

and sometimes hairraising terrain before reaching journeys end. The host and ■ hostess were splendid company and all had much in common. What they did lack was reticulation—a petrol-driven generator provided domestic lighting—a huge antediluvian coal range the one cooking facility. It was less than fortunate that the hostess was stricken with pneumonia and confined to bed for the duration of their stay. How the Wellington woman managed to cope she will never know—she was obliged to cook for 15 people all told, her family of four, their friends family of six, three fencers and a rouseabout And her husband found that assisting in animal husbandry was equally exhausting. They eventually returned home thoroughly worn out. The little woman sifted through the mail awaiting them tradesmen’s accounts, television renewal notice, insurance receipt and a birthday parcel from her sister—ironically enough, a profusely - illustrated cookery book.