Pomona (the latest name for our farmette) is again basking in the afterglow of several firsts. It's fun to have a hobby where two years in to it, I'm still having firsts. I like big, big projects.
First first: butter, thereby proving that I'm not a witch and not worth burning. Thanks for your patience. I'm temporarily having real cream and the butter is easy to make but intense. Our strawberries, peas, cucumbers, herbs, radishes, etc, etc, plus butter, milk and eggs are radically flavored. After getting over the spring shock of taste, I have a hard time understanding how everything store bought is so utterly bland. What do they do to these things that makes them so tasteless? Do the stores have taste sucking equipment? or is that on the truck that brings it? Does it keep us coming back for more, do they tease us with a fix and then ensure we leave less than fully satisfied?
|Snow on Mt. Spokane ruins|
Third first: castration. Beignet is a little... under the weather today. It took four of us. Huck and Sergei to hold him down and Maria to work the rubber band machine and me to fret and ask if there was something I should be doing, over and over again. But now I've seen it done... so I think that some day I could see someone else to it again. Only next time I could probably yell directions too: "Are they both in there? Hold the legs tighter! Keep his head down! Is he still breathing?" He was wild boy, big and strong and he wasn't that in to it. And I have to say that I do feel bad about that too. But I really have even less use for a bull than a steer, no matter how long his odd white eyelashes are, and how wild his soul.
|Mt Kit Carson|
Gotta go birthday party now!