Catching up...

Whew.

Is it okay to be exhausted by Tuesday?

Let's catch up, shall we?
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The Never-Ending Move

The Avondale house is now officially empty of all my worldly possessions, and as we speak, men are stripping the ceilings and spackling the walls, and when they've finished, it will be the cottage I always wanted it to be...and someone else will live there. Hrmm. That's okay, I'm perfectly happy here on Blue Meadow, and I'm delighted to think that someone, hopefully someone just like I was, will get to make Avondale their dream home. Good for them.

Goodwill on Broadway was the very grateful recipient of 5 truckloads of furniture, knicknacks, and a bulging closet full of clothes (seriously, two loads were nothing BUT clothes). Purging is good. I needed a new wardrobe anyway.

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Deer

I finally got some pictures of the famed backyard deer. Not the best pictures, but you try snapping them from inside on a cold morning before caffeine with two barking dogs at your feet. I can't believe they stuck around for the full 2 minutes I had to photograph them in the first place, but I luuuurve them. See them better over on Flickr...
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Pie
Now, y'all are just going to have to hear me out on this one.

With my brother in town, I had present the only other person I know who would truly, deeply, appreciate what I'm about to share with you.

Bacon Apple Pie.

Bacon, people. What magic can bacon NOT do? This is really just your basic apple pie, with a healthy dose of lovely, crispy bacon crumbled in the mix. I served it with a melty topping of smoked gouda or colby cheese. I had it for dessert, I had it for breakfast, and not once, my dears, did I suffer the least twinge of guilt. I've given up on guilt, at least in relation to food. We all deserve a little Bacon Apple Pie, once in a while.

Paula Deen would be SO proud.
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Goats!

Also with Mike in tow, we stopped for the first time ever to actually visit the famed Vet's office goat(s). Um. Sorry. I forgot Mike is...unsettled...by goats. That notwithstanding, I was delighted to meet the goats. What up, goats! They trotted up instantly to the gate so I could pet them and be freaked out by their eyes (what *is* up with goat eyes? Their pupils are sideways, and that did not help the goats' case with Mike, but I was able to overlook it. I still love you, goat!). And then from the background steps...a pig. Apparently, he lives with the goats. He also approached the fence to be petted or at least fed (sorry, dude, next time I'll bring some fruit or a carrot or something), where one of the goats promptly lowered his head and butted the pig in the side. It wasn't hard, the pig didn't even flinch, so I'm going with the theory that it was a playful love pat, but that was it for Mike. The kid could not get in the car fast enough, and all day long he was troubled by the thought that the goat was picking on that pig. I promise you, the image *haunted* him. Did I mention my brother is 25 years old? Anyway, I gotta figure head-butting goes with the goat-territory, and I still greet them happily when I drive by.

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With the visitors now gone, the house is empty, and a bit destroyed. I've got a whole days worth of laundry, vacuuming, and general tidying, not to mention some shopping to do and working up Valentine's Dinner for Thursday (of *course* I cook for Valentine's Day, I cook for our anniversaries too). In other words, I'm swamped, and shouldn't have spent the time I did here on ye olde blogge post, but catching up is too tempting, my bloggy friends! But now, well, I'm off!