Merry Christmas from Australia fellow lamb lovers.
No photo of a lamb today and if you can bear through a story I'll tell you why.
Growing up my dad was a butcher, then a shearer before buying his small piece of land. There he and my step mother struggled along (unbeknownst to me as a kid). We came from very much a working class background and most of the meat we ate was game. My fondest memories of those years are all around hunting and game. He always had two folding knives in the ute, a clip point rabbit knife for skinning and dressing rabbits (rabbit was our chicken back then and the skins were still worth some money) and the venerable lambsfoot. The lamb did odd jobs like cutting hay twine, opening packages or whatnot and cutting up food. When I think of his lamb the main memory is my brother and I sharing the front passenger seat after we'd been cutting firewood and dad slicing up pieces of salami made from a deer he'd shot and passing them around to us. We may not have had much, but I never felt poor as a kid with moments like that.
Fast forward to today And my dad was recently sitting in my ute as we went yabbying. His lamb is long lost and mine lives in my centre cup holder where it's used the same way his was. He was admiring it and saying he'd love one again. Now it's not a perfect knife, she's quite a strong pull and F&F isn't at the top, but it's still a sheffield lamb and to him that's a big tick. He can't use the internet and while he scours second hand shops for knives, has never had the opportunity to get another.
So I've got my lamb boxed up ready to gift to him this morning when we take the kids around for our family Christmas. I reckon it'll put a nice smile on his face.
Anyway Guardians, it's 6:40am here Christmas morning and as I've been writing this under the patter of rain on the tin roof time has ticked away and the kids will soon be rising so I must sign out.
Wishing you all a safe and happy Christmas, and all the best for the year to come.
Jack