Hmph. Lessee...

Well. I was going to go to my spinning group today. The illustrious weather guessers were yodelling about a winter wind storm. So due to circumstances that were somewhat out of my control, I didn't go.

So, I made a loaf of bread. (I was informed by an older friend of mine that making bread is an art form, not just 'throwing stuff into a machine.' And so, my I introduce myself, the Bread Machinist...)

And continued reading a book I'd started. I knit on a Christmas project, (pictures and mentioning of item not here, as I don't know if said recipient might actually read my blog...)

I made lunch for us, Husband and I. Or is it me? Anyway, we had lunch. And then we worked for a mite getting the 'travel gate' open from the back field to the front. I hope to start feeding my llamas down front again... If they will cooperate. I think a rattling feed bucket might convince them, however. It seems to most of the time.

I read other blogs to see if I could steal anything for blog fodder. Let's see, Relationship troubles, no, thank goodness. Canadian Animal fair, nope. Getting home from a book tour. I wish... Talking Sheep and yarn balls... Plagiarism is frowned on. It is funny, however.
( http://the-panopticon.blogspot.com/)

Last chance, the last blog I check...

"My Inner Lesbian High Priestess"

Whoooookaaaaaaay, never mind. OK, so much for hijacking someone else's blog. (Especially since the last one was written by a guy...)

Sometimes I guess that the Muse that I have heard inspires one to write, sits down, crosses its arms like a two year old, and gives me a humongous raspberry. Sometimes it's like that.

I was in a writing group for a while, and I loved writing fiction. According to the group, it wasn't good fiction, as I would make really bad mistakes that were usually, most of the time, oh, the MAIN PLOT POINT. But they liked the humor of the stories, even if I had married priests, or Stud horses that didn't want to have sex because they couldn't afford child support, (excuse me, people, it's FICTION, how many ding dong talking horses, besides Mr. Ed, have you SEEN???), or slaves, that were slaves after the emancipation proclamation. Well, fine. So, I wrote little ditties about my personal life, and people think they are just lovely.

That's great. Except, I don't really think the group would have wanted a 500 word article on cleaning out a chicken house, or the shed, or helping Husband rebuild an engine, every time. I suppose if I did what my one high school English teacher said, is just write. Give yourself x amount of words and just force yourself to write that much each day, then you will learn to be a writer.

Uh huh. I note said teacher never said I would be a GOOD writer.

I do know, like exercising, the more you make an effort, the easier it gets. With the exception of the dial up crashing, but at least I do make an effort to save my work regularly...

Ya know, I think, if I were a bear, this is the part where I would have my nice cave, curled up on a rock, and snoring while dreaming of trash cans and honey bee hives. So, I guess, I will call this a blog, and see if I can come out of literary hibernation tomorrow...

Grr. Zzzz.

I'm BAA-AAA-AAACK!

Well, Parents in Law have left, and I have finally sat down to try and blog again!

I didn't have too much problem with them being here, but it was a change for all of us. They are night owls. Like 1 am is thinking about bedtime. We go to bed on a late night at about 10. Normally, 9. Happily, they weren't real noisy, and we both sleep pretty heavily, so it worked out. We also gave them a room and a bathroom of their own. Thank all that's holy we did. I don't know quite how we would have done it, if we'd had them sleep on the couch in the front room. We are just incredibly fortunant that we had the extra space for it... Even if I had to completely desimate the craft room to do it! Oh,well, I have the "stuff" in boxes, and instead of just plunking it all back in there, I am taking my time and making the good go in, but the 'stuff' that is just been riding along, gets to wander to someone/somewhere else, be it the local thrift store, or a friend that could use it, or just THE GARBAGE!!!

This is also a reason I didn't write for a day or two. Rudee is for perspective (STILL without the ball in his mouth. Point camera, drop ball. If I ask him to drop the ball, though...) Anyway, we have traded a gent some yard work, for taking out the dead trees in his yard. LOTS of dead trees. We have a wood stove, and it has been known that power outages occur around here, (however, I must say Consumer's Power has done well by us, so far), and we bucked wood. I am rather tired of bucking wood. Nerves weren't that hot either, since a couple times husband, (who fell said trees) got the tops tangled in other trees twice. As I recall, loggers refer to that as a 'widow maker'. Ahem. My nerves were strung tight until he was able to get the tree DOWN! We mashed a couple of the little cherry trees in the process, I guess the gent's wife was unhappy about that, but I guess, Hmmm, cherry tree, husband, cherry tree, husband... To blazes with the stupid cherry tree!

This is a picture of the final amount... We have about 10 cord, according to husband. I really am glad I helped, and I am REALLY glad we don't have to do that again for a while.

On a sad note, one of my oldest hens died, just old age. Her name was Meanie, and she was a good hen. Laid green eggs. Bearded chicken. Annoyingly, I have no pictures of her. But she was a good hen. Why the "Meanie" name? She was the top hen, and would prove it by tearing feathers out of any and all comers, including the roosters. She also had an odd sound she would make, I haven't heard it with any of my other birds, it sounded like trying to start a car with a bad solinoid. Don't know why she did it either. She'd be standing, or eating, then she'd stop, look around, and then 'gr-gr-r-r-r-r-nk!"

She was a good hen.

On a better note, I have just bought 25 pounds of flour, for my hobby. Bread baking. I go to any group thing anymore, I am asked if I would bring bread. I made bread for the dinner after the funeral of my Aunt, and I noticed some of the bread was gone, before dinner, then heard the kitchen ladies talking about the fact that they weren't going to be able to eat much after eating that homemade bread! (Mine was the only home made there, and they didn't know me to be 'polite' about the food, so I was happy.)

The only problem with 25 pounds of flour? You put it in a container, you look like Casper the Friendly Ghost's cousin. I am already fair of skin... I don't need that!