How many years before a Tradition becomes a Tradition?
Saturday Morning September 14, 2013.
It's early morning. Slowly roasting under a blanket of metal sheeting, a Mutton roasting for 10 hours.
See the steam rising?
23 years ago, the first Mutton Roast at our Country Farm house.
The Mutton was roasted in a hand dug pit, first wrapped in chicken wire with herbs and spices and then tightly covered with wooden planks and a layer of dirt, and left to roast for 10 hours.
Did I tell you that it was a black tie affair?
We had just introduced our niece Susan to our Friends' son, Johnny.
There was chemistry right from the start.
Now, three handsome boys later.
And we celebrated our 23rd Annual Mutton Roast last Saturday,
for many years now hosted by Johnny's Mother and Father.
The wood is already stacked up for next year's Mutton Roast.
To be roasted in a pit which Johnny's Father built.
It's 7 o'clock in the morning. The Mutton was uncovered and brought up to be cut into serving pieces.
Champagne is on ice, another tradition.
Mr G is still the head honcho. He is the farm boy who knows how to cut a perfect butterfly steak.
Celebrating Life.
While remembering a fallen friend.
We enjoyed each others company and the abundance of nature.
Have a wonderful week my dear
Blogging Friends.
Gina
A few (not my friends) have asked if my birthday always falls on