© Smith Estate. Used with permission via CAL.
Christmas feels like the right time to tell this one.
I was reminded of it recently while reading Christabel Blackman’s excellent book Charles & Barbara Blackman: A Decade of Art and Love. It’s one of those books that quietly brings a period back to life, right down to the small, telling details.
In 1954, Joy and Gray moved to a Spanish hacienda on a farm outside Avonsleigh. The house had no running water, no heating, and a colourful past. It had been used for abortions, which oddly appealed to Joy. It felt honest. A place where things had already gone wrong and survived it.
They lived simply. Open fires. Fresh produce. Home-made salamis. Liquorice from the local shop. A blind pensioner nearby helped them with essentials. Life was hard, but no one seemed especially troubled by that.
Toward the end of the year, Charles and Barbara came for a weekend visit. The visit lasted a year. They rented a house across the bull paddock from Joy and Gray. The two houses faced each other across the field. This proved close enough.
The couples grew close. They shared food, swapped ideas, and occasionally tried to improve their financial position.
One such improvement involved Christmas chickens.
Joy liked cooking them. Someone observed that restaurants liked selling them. The idea formed that there was money to be made.
Roles were assigned.
Gray dispatched the birds.
Barbara plucked them.
Charles dissected.
Joy trussed.
The finished chickens were placed in the iced outdoor meat safe. It’s likely a damp hessian bag was draped over the safe to extract what little cooperation the climate was willing to offer. Most of the time, this arrangement worked.
The chickens were delivered to the restaurant. The owner accepted them. Money was paid. No objections were raised. The group returned home with the unfamiliar feeling that something had gone according to plan.
They assumed this feeling was justified.
Later that day, the restaurant owner took a closer look.
He leaned in.
He sniffed.
He did not need to sniff twice.
Fortunately, this occurred before any chicken reached a plate. Shortly afterwards, the birds were returned to Avonsleigh, along with a clear request that the money be returned as well.
The chicken enterprise was done.
This episode even found its way onto the stage years later. Emma Louise Pursey captured it beautifully in Where is Joy?, a play about Joy’s life. I briefly mentioned this very chicken story here:
https://graysmithartist.com/2025/10/30/a-night-with-joy-hester/
No one was enriched. No reputations were damaged. But the year remained a good one. Four artists lived simply, worked hard, shared what they had, and learned something useful about optimism, heat, and poultry.
It feels like a Christmas story. About friendship. About having a go. And about the fact that confidence, like chicken, may not keep well in the summer.
Wishing you a gentle and creative Christmas.
Blackman, Christabel. Charles & Barbara Blackman: A Decade of Art and Love. Cremorne, Victoria: Thames & Hudson, 2024. p. 135.
