Cinnamon tree (Photo credit: santheo)Yesterday we had a steergoround.One would appear in the garden and be hooshed off to the corral.
Then another...same process.
Then another....
You would think that they were hobbits and we were Beorn.
Once gathered into the corral they would mooch off again and the steergoround would start all over again.
It was too late to find the break in the fence...so this morning we awoke to all five of them happily munching the grass alongside the fish ponds.
But not only the grass. Their midnight feast had involved plantains....plants knocked down to get to same....the leaves of several orange trees....and my one and only cinnamon tree.
Nowhere near the size of the tree in the picture above, only one year old, the poor thing had been torn to bits, stems lying all around as one steer after another had had a go at it.
I can only assume that cinnamon was not flavour of the month in steerland.
Still, it urged me on to have a go at harvesting what we had.
I took a kitchen knife and stripped the stems.....fine curls of skin with the most wonderful sweet scent.
My hands still smell of cinnamon hours after putting the curls of skin to dry.
Another first for me in this new life.
