The road to Goonong was just a pair of wheel tracks packed down by buggies and drays that had travelled that way over the years. It ran through forest and passed by farmhouses and the hut where the Schmidt boys lived. Goonong, our farm, was at the end of the road. We had beef cattle and dairy cattle, and there was plenty of room to play and plenty of horses to ride. It was a time when timber-cutters felled big ironbarks and blacksmiths’ hammers rang out from the forge. The skies were always blue over Goonong.

With laid-back charm, bush humour and a spirit of optimism, David Cox captures the joy and freedom, as well as the harsh reality, of farming life during the Great Depression.