What I've been thinking about:
- Birth Days
- Gnocchi
This morning's Facebook memories tell me that six years ago I was visiting friends near Stockholm. Highlights included staying on a hostel that was a boat (or was it a boat that was a hostel?), spotting a gigantic elk from the bus (and no one else batting an eyelid) and time with some of my favourite people.
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| Den Röda Båten |
This time last year, Ivie and I were in Glasgow which meant that, in a break from the norm, we spent his birthday day together. I've long since accepted that red letter days at home are only marginally different from other days. We generally manage food related fun in the evening but bales still need stacked, machinery still needs tinkered with and stock still needs checked.
Which brings me to yesterday. Ivie turned 45 (+VAT) and we had arranged dinner at The Pheasant Sorbie with Doug and Marie. We'd last seen Doug in Japan in 2019 and I'd never met Marie so we were really looking forward to it.
Ivie was washed, shaved and about to put on clean clothes (exciting for me in itself) when it emerged that there was a cow calving. When Kerr and Drew weren't home. And the calf was coming backwards.
There was at least a tenner for the swear jar as Ivie put his working clothes back on. I got changed out of my glad rags to show moral support, secretly hoping that my offers of help would be turned down. It's not that I'm unwilling exactly but have you seen the size and temperament of cows? Especially pregnant ones with little hooves sticking out of them.
I stood well back while Ivie persuaded her into the crush and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Drew arrive. The swearing subsided as Ivie and Drew worked together calmly to try and get more than the hooves out. No further progress had been made when Kerr appeared and we were able to make a sharp exit to Sorbie.
We had surprise main courses that Doug and Marie had ordered and Andrea had held off on cooking, and delicious desserts thanks to Morag. (Seriously, if you haven't been to The Pheasant, get yourselves down there.)
This morning, the wee calf (born via caesarean eventually) has its head up but hasn't got to its feet yet. I'm hoping that it rallies and ends up as mighty as this little Caesar. Looks like an Italian restaurant was just the place to celebrate its birth...
EDIT: I can report that the calf is on its feet!
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| Remember this little guy? |
Ivie was washed, shaved and about to put on clean clothes (exciting for me in itself) when it emerged that there was a cow calving. When Kerr and Drew weren't home. And the calf was coming backwards.
