Dear Reader. Where did we leave off. Yes bacon. My porky inclinations took me to a revival of Laura Ingalls Wilder. Little Suse sprang a surprise visit on me last weekend and of course we had to go to the library and raid the self-help section. It's less humiliating I find to borrow such books then have to buy them. Less since you can be rid of them more discreetly than having to sell a copy of "How Do You Know A Man is Right For You" for two bucks on Amazon. Since I can never bring myself to check out just self-help books at the library (even though they were really for Suse), I gave my pile a little more respectability adding a volume from the Little House on the Prairie series.
Ah pioneer life. There is a lot of fond narrative revolving around salted pork, and sitting around cozy inside a cabin snug as a bug while winter storms rage about. How could I resist. I ordered the Little House on the Prairie Cookbook on line so C can also enjoy the flavors of pioneer life. Now if he can shoot down a few plump crows devastating our crops....
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