Growing up, we had cattle. I don't remember much about it other than they were in OK, the bull was named Horny (because he had horns), and there was another one named Boomerang ( I vaguely remember he ran away and always came back?). We had returned from Australia, and my sister named them.
I do have fond memories of the ranch and visiting my grandparents. One time we went fishing in a pond there, someone caught a fish, and I was having a meltdown (I was little), and the fish jumped back in the pond. My grandfather said it was because of me. Oh well. I remember drinking goat milk, feeding chickens, collecting eggs (my grandmother would tell me I wasn't fast enough, and to quit being scared and grab those eggs!), and a visit to their auction barn (where I once made a fake leather wallet from some kit my mom gave me, and my grandfather taught me how to count money quickly while he was counting money in the snack bar they ran too). I had an interesting childhood.
Anyway, we used to have tons of beef, wrapped in white paper, and stored in our garage freezer. Fast forward, and I have been trying to go with organic and grass-fed beef, in order to keep the kids happy, and healthy. We bought 1/4 of a cow, and our freezer is full of amazing meat, which is tasty. My out-laws keep us supplied with duck eggs and chicken eggs from their brood.
During this time:
1. Em decided she was going to be a vegetarian.
2. Abs declared she only likes ground beef and ribs.
3. Andrew NEVER eats meat.
4. Gunner has decided that since we are eating healthier, it is beef that causes him to feel gross.
This leaves me. I'm eating steaks, fajitas, and more steaks.
These children (and Gunner) are going to be the death of me!
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
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2 comments:
I love that you're writing again!
So my friend, while growing up, had a cow named 22 that they kept in their yard (2 acres? I think.) And eventually her family took 22 to be processed and had all these packages labeled 22 in the deep freezer... and we made a song up "ode to 22." First like was "22. 22. We miss you. 22. Leann ate you but she didn't mean to." Yeah. Compassion of kids, I guess.
We're switching over to grassfed meats. Maybe when we get back to TX, we can split a cow or a 1/4 cow if your family is still not eating meat. Sounds like an awesome childhood!
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