Well that was fun!
I had a very relaxing few days with my two best girlfriends and very nearly achieved my long-held dream of spending an entire day in Powell's books (Powell's Books - Used, New, and Out of Print - We Buy and Sell) all by my lonesome. I could have, if I'd wanted to, but as it turned out I was a little bit worn out and decided to come home a day early and save some money on another night in a hotel. So I only spent about four hours in Powell's books, and if any of you have ever been there, you know that's a laughably inadequate amount of time. It bills itself as the largest bookstore in the United States, and I really think it might be.
Everything is still standing here at home. The Huns, it seems, have not ravaged the place, nor has any animal or child expired, nor did plague or fire break out. So. I'm not QUITE as indispensable as I thought I was. Hmm. Meditate on that.
There were a few things I noticed. Nobody collected eggs while I was gone, so there were nineteen eggs waiting for me, and some of them had gotten rather dirty. Big whoop. And my goats, who I had thought were in advanced pregnancy, were very deflated. Homero has constantly been telling me I feed them too much, and perhaps he is right. What I thought was a bunch of kids was apparently only big ol' hay bellies.
I don't really understand this, because everyone I know says to feed your goats free choice hay, which is what I try to do - I can't actually give them as much as they'd eat because they would go through a bale a day, easy. And that's just crazy. But I do give them a good flake apiece, morning and evening, plus an hour or so out browsing most days. I haven't asked Homero, but I'm sure he's been giving them less than I do. He's terribly cheap. But he might be right.
The weather has turned back in the direction of a little more normal for January - it's still well above average temperatures, but it's no longer sunny and fifty-five. More like grey, rainy, breezy, and forty-two.
I like it. I'm home.
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