Today's farm report finds us blissfully home...Maybe not blissfully, but home. It's warming up, which means it's a wet cold, not a dry one. Whatever that means. The critters have been fed and spoiled, and new supplies have been acquired for their comfort and nutrition. (I bought shavings and feed.)
I have moved us back into this house, a feat accomplished with much sweeping and laundry. I don't get it. I did laundry on the road, and, yet, there were mountains of the stuff when I got home. I don't remember leaving any. I return to my lifelong theory; the stuff breeds.
The upstairs is comfy and clean. The downstairs can wait until tomorrow; it's not too bad, anyway. I have to wait for the dryer to finish, so I may as well start reading for the class I'm taking this semester, The Geography of Coffee, taught by this guy. Does it sound fun? I think it does. Relevant, too.
Off I go...to the land of Coffee.
1 comment:
Your class is like a Unit Study for grown ups - geography buried in a interesting subject.
(Actually, I always kind of liked geography.)
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