Grapa: 

Dad travelled over the length and breadth of Victoria distributing horticulture chemicals to orchardists.  This was in the days when the understanding of such toxic nasties as ‘Dildran’ was not widely known.  Even years after Dad had taken his last concinement in the fully packed station wagon, the smell of chemicals was still very strong.

Over the years Dad was able to build up quite a clientele including many Italian customers.  Like everyone, they enjoyed his stories, jokes and his obvious passion for fruit trees and it was common that he would be rewarded with a bottle of home brewed grapa.  “Hey, Danny, you taka this – itsa veery gooda.   It willa put fire ina your belly”.  Dad always politely accepted the plonk and when he returned home, he thoughtfully stored it in the dining room fire place.  He did try it once but commented that if you drank more than a few mouthfulls ‘it would probably take your head off’.  Mum came up with the novel idea that she would try using it in the Christmas cake to give it a kick.

One day we received a visit from our neighbour, Bernie.  He had quite a talent for drawing horses, but we could see by his demeanour that this was not a time to pester him.  He was like a cat on a hot tin roof and we soon found out why he was so agitated.  His wife, Mary, was going to give birth to their first child during that very afternoon.  In those times, maternity was seen to be ‘women’s business’.   We all tried to calm him down but nothing seemed to be working.  It was then that Dad hit on a brilliant suggestion.  He whispered to Mum with a rye smile - “I’ll go and get some grapa into him”.  Before long Dad had returned with one of the black demons from hell and he poured him a large glass.  The first mouthful seemed to take Bernie’s breath away and his face instantly became flushed, but he warmed to the task and proceeded to down the fiery concoction.  We were sure surprised when he was back for a refill and within a few minutes his wife and the newborn babe were almost forgotten.  When he began to sing Mum became more than a little concerned that Bernie might becoming ‘tight’.  Somehow, he eventually made it home and I’m not sure when or how he received the good news that he had a son.