Yes Cheri, the 'good old days'. We didn't die, we didn't get sick. Mutton used to be brought up from the Waikato then. From my uncles farm, a somewhat torturous journey then, the roads were mostly gravel and there was the Bombay Hills to negotiate. All cars carried spare water, and mothers packed large lunches. Mum and the kids got water, and Dad had usually tucked a couple of bottles of beer away for himself. We had no fridges, and certainly no freezers. We did have a kitchen safe and two others on the cold side. My uncle organised a couple of men and their wives to do the milking for him. We ate ourselves stupid, and so did our neighbours. It was frightfully illegal, the rationing was still on. And he brought eggs. My grandfather had 1/2 an acre in cultivation, so veg was not a prob. Nanna bartered for eggs, flour, sugar, and so on. Bottled humungeous amounts of fruit. jams , and made ghee. We did rather well in those skinny times. Every (Seasonal) Sunday we went berry picking, and had a luscious pie for evening dessert.