Well, as mentioned a few weeks ago, I’m here for the New Year, the male bit, the not all roses and sugar coating bit for Feather & Nest.
So, like the title says, this post is all about balls or lack of them but before I talk about balls I wanted to mention those pickles that Kimmy mentioned the other day. They turned out to be bloody beautiful. Maybe a little too much sugar but I’m keen to make more of them, like my zucchini balls which I also made not long ago. There’s nothing better than using veggies straight out of the garden. So much more rewarding than using bought stuff and zucchinis grow like a weed when it gets going so there’s always plenty to use.
Anyhow, talking about zucchinis balls I thought I’d talk about my bulls ( ? ) What’s with the question mark, you may be wondering.? Well, Kimmy called the newest calf born, Matt because she thought he’d look good on her lounge room floor. (We eat the boy calves between 1 and 2 years of age) But when I went to turn him into a steer (via putting rings on his balls) I had to inform her that Matt was now short for Matilda which means it’s not going to be walked on for some time yet. Yep, Matt was actually a cow.
Can you see why we thought Matilda was a Matt?
Yep, no balls there!
Anyway, the kids are down and I like to do these things with them so they get the whole farm experience. Just like when we take the cattle to be butchered or to be sold at the sale yards. My boy Josh loves it. Jess, on the other hand, doesn’t mind watching but is not too keen on getting her nails dirty. Josh’s mates, the twins, are keen to assist at times and there’s always something that happens that creates memories to remember.
That’s Jess’ finger at the top of those last two shot, she’s in training to be another instagram queen. I thought Kimmy was bad, Jess can take about 100 shots in a minute and usually they are all of herself. I am forever deleting her selfies off my phone but I always keep one or two. She’s the apple of my eye and I wouldn’t swap her for all the gold (or tea!) in China.
Talking about my baby girl, I just finished a make over on her room…(sorry about some of these blurry photos)
I know what you’re thinking…it’s a tiny room, but I live in a shed and that room is above my kitchen. I’ve got to make use of all my space. Jess was very happy with it.
Anyway, back to my bulls…
Isn’t that a memory? Look at those boys grabbing hold of balls that aren’t theirs! I asked them when I picked them up who wants to do what and all of them said that they’re not going to do the balls part but as you can see my hands were full holding the beast still so they had to man up and it was all hands on…deck, well, balls. They all felt proud and like men but the poor bull was feeling the effects of never becoming a man, or should I say, bull.
While we are are still on the subject of balls, I want to mention how proud I am of my boy who’s balls are dropping as he comes of age. He is still a wacky teenager but shows his beautiful heart and maturity when needed. I, like most of us parents, are quick to get up him when he does something wrong and not as quick to praise him so I’ll embarrass him right now and tell him publicly:
I love you, mate. The little things you do make me so proud of you.
Anyway, there’s only one bull left in my paddock again and that’s Clumsy and it turns out I’m up another cow because Matt ended up being Matilda so a good day was had all round. So the next balls on the chopping block will be turning my rams into wethers.
I bet you can’t wait.