Good to see you back, Abi! I was thinking about you recently when I was on Rav. Things are going pretty well over at Hermit Thrush Hill. I'm trying to get Sean onboard for doing another round of meat chickens--what breed did you raise?

Not about the movie specifically, but about Eric Heisserer, your friend who wrote it (right?): I really dig his short stories. I read his fourth one on Mulholland Books' Popcorn Fiction today, and it's REALLY interesting. I think I still may like "Last Vegas" better, but all of his stuff on there is worth checking out. Actually, most of the stuff on that site is worth checking out, and I would strongly encourage any WWDN:IX readers to head on over there. (Note: I am not affiliated with that site or Mulholland Books in any way. I started reading Drew McWeeney's stories over there and got hooked by all the awesome content.)

Butter all the way! ;-D

Hi, Abi. Gluten-Free Pantry has a good pie crust mix (I think I tend to use more butter than it calls for). Their GF french bread/pizza crust mix is also terrific: I've served it to several non-GF foodies, and they've all been floored by how good it is.

Hi, Abi. We make a soup with our scapes that's like potato leek soup, but with scapes instead of leeks. It's delicious!

We've been busy with all the chicks and ducklings we've hatched, as well as the goat kids and the lambs--especially the bottle baby that's staying in a play pen in our living room! (She was on death's door about three weeks ago, and has more than doubled her weight since then! We're so happy...) Abi, since you guys have such a love affair with bantys, I have to recommend you check out Seramas. They're the smallest chicken in the world, come in a crazy variety of colors, and are super friendly. We incubated a bunch of eggs this spring, and I'm just loving these guys. (Oh yeah, and they're supposed to be reliable layers, too, although our guys are too young to, yet.) Hope it hasn't been as wet for you guys as it's been for us. ;-)

That's okay--I have the same problem with my husband. I thought about telling him, all excited, that I got name-checked on Wil Wheaton's blog today, but...

You're welcome! Always glad to share the geek love.

DUDE! Did you see?? Evil Wil Wheaton is Evil: http://mightygodking.com/index.php/2010/12/08/alignment-chart-week-the-big-bang-theory/

Abi, those pictures are so lovely! Thanks for sharing them with us. And thank you for the gluten-free stuffing recipe--Sean is allergic to wheat, and we've used that tapioca bread, too. :-) Hope you all are having a lovely pre-Solstice season. Best wishes, Melissa

Abi, I have to say that I love both aspects. I'm an extrovert who, as a result of the rural homesteading life I love, find that I wish I had more friends who at a gut level understand the choices I've made. So I find myself drawn to virtual communities, like yours and Jenna's, that acknowledge both the sublime and the maddening in the choices we've made and in the long run love it all. And for the record, in that picture of you and (two of) your kids in the living room, the primary things I see are the warmth of both the furnings and the family. :-)

Thanks, Abi! Oh, if you want to check out our Web site to take a look at our other hijinks (including draft horses and a flock of Soay), it's www.HermitThrushHill.com--we're over in New York.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and we're getting our first-ever heifer delivered! (First-time poster here by way of CAF & I just had to share). Oh yeah, which also means hay run, shuffling the sheep around in the barn to make room for the heifer, etc. And then off to look at Boer goat doelings on Sunday. :-) -Melissa

Wil, I'm so sorry. I don't know if this will help, but there's a Ray Bradbury story in "Quicker than the Eye" called "No News" that starts like this: It was a day of holocausts, cataclysms, tornadoes, earthquakes, blackouts, mass murders, eruptions, and miscellaneous dooms, at the peak of which the sun swallowed the earth and the stars vanished. But to put it simply, the most respected member of the Bentley family up and died. Dog was his name, and dog he was. (Incidentally, Bradbury dedicated the book to his golden retreiver.)