monty turns six

Once upon a time I lived in a wee little cottage, I was (and still am) a photographer, a livestock assistant / steer wrangler / calf puller / embryo transfer-er / ute-horn-blower / motorbike navigator / vaccine injector / horse-riding-hooligan / chef / maid to Mr M, and also a nanny to one busy little boy who lived over the hill (and often his way-too-cool-for-school big brother would join us too). We would spend our days on the hills of Ythanbrae, making forts and BMX tracks through the mud, having picnics with Lily, races on the silage bales and baking up a storm in the tiny cottage kitchen. I still have the recipe in my recipe journal: 'Emma and Monty's Perfected Cupcakes'. We had those cupcakes down pat I tells ya. I taught him to crack an egg and he taught me not to be scared of roosters and the big drake that would flap and quack at me getting the eggs. ("Don't be scared Emmmmaaahh, he's a friendly little fella!") We were a team.

I started looking after Monty when he was just a teeny tiny three year old, then he went off to kinder and I would pick him up three times a week laden with his paintings of tractors and 'them big cheeky bulls' and his half eaten honey sandwiches. We would toddle off down the main street of Yea for a hot chocolate (for Monty) and a latte (for me), and everybody we passed knew us and shouted out and waved to us. We were an entity - Emmaandmonty. Then he would fall asleep exhausted on the way home and I would let him snooze whilst we waited for the school bus and his big brother. Then we moved to Brindabella, and Monty went off to school and became a big boy. And this week he turns six. How does that even happen? He still seems like the cheeky little two year old I met for the first time at a bull sale, itching to get in the ring with his Dad. 

One thing is for sure, Monty-moo loves tractors. The bigger the better (I really hope he still believes it's 'Massive Ferguson' not 'Massey Ferguson' haha) So for his birthday this year I whipped up a John Deere inspired long sleeve shirt (for those chilly Yea nights) and a cushion for his bed out of a quilting block I had stashed away in my sewing room for such an occasion.

Happy birthday to my main man Monty, I miss your guts out you little ratbag xxx

Pssst....my survey is still going until the end of the week if you want to join in - there are only 10 questions, mostly multiple choice and I would love the feedback! Thanks :)


Images by Emma Durkin for Cinderella at Brindabella