Oh, the weather! Let’s just say it’s been great for the garden and leave it at that.

But it does mean when the sun does decide to shine it seems especially glorious. Then we scurry around moving stock, refencing the chickens (both of which no photos exist) and harvesting crops.

But as far as The Prince of Kimberley (aka The Farmer) was concerned, as our hay was harvested at the best possible time, most pressing when the sun finally showed its face was to – after only 22 years wait – play the first ever Homestead Boxing Day Test.

Because, once upon a time – kind of 22ish years ago in fact – having grown so frustrated at the content of material available to reluctant (particularly male) readers, one being a fledgling Homestead resident, I was fleetingly and rather uncomfortably an author.

Of the three books that made it to publication, The Boxing Day Test was our boy’s absolute favourite

possibly because he was the star of the show

but despite the great many games of backyard cricket we have played the over the years – complete with ball shaped bruises and chucking accusations – none, in his eyes, were actually THE game. It became obvious this game was earmarked to be IT when, after harrassing us for our group chat RSVPs for Cricket-in-the-recently-hayed-so-relative-poo-free sheep paddock at 1300 hours on the next forecast clear day (with attached Met Service screen clip identifying, not Boxing Day, but the 28th), he then messaged that he would be round to prepare the wicket when conditions allowed.

Feeling this might be hinting at a dream not yet realised, we decided to pull out all stops and the publication was consulted; the intervening 22 years had meant some of the details were a tad fuzzy. Camping chairs were unearthed, the sun umbrella was slightly shocked, taking into account this summer’s weather, to be shaken free of spiders and its spikey end reattached once we’d found it – why do they always get seperated over winter despite being put away together? – a scoreboard was fashioned, and suitably stocked drinks trolley assembled.

For those not offay with the concept, the most important thing to decide prior to start of play in backyard cricket is not who will be first to take the crease but rather THE RULES. For this game it was agreed:

1. Each player faces 10 balls per innings despite the result of the previous ball faced
2. Drinks – very important – occur at the end of every innings (once everyone has had a bat)
3. It is the bowler’s responsibility to avoid a DBW (dog before wicket) ie: lure the dog off the wicket before bowling
4. If the lured-away dog then runs off with the ball it counts as 1 run

It was a tumultuous, at times fast paced – at others decidedly waddly, fiercely fought game; injury was narrowly avoided when the bat – the actual Christmas present received all those years ago – snapped and whistled past your scribes head but every cloud has a silver lining and that has now been pressed into service as the trophy, and Colin showed great cricketing talent stopping many potential fours and leaping gracefully to pluck one definite six out of the air.

The Prince ended the day as victor: 29 runs off 10 balls faced. The scoreboard is now tucked away, the trophy awaits engraving, and there’s much talk of next year’s Post-Hay Homestead Test – especially from The Princess who, despite suffering from a complaining wisdom tooth, racked up a very competitive 28.

I’d say next year could be quite the royal rumble.

Happy 2025 to you all from all at Union Homestead