Helllooo? Anybody else back from the holidays yet? Personally, I've spent the past two weeks wallowing in calories of every shape and size, from hot buttered whiskey to Marge's To Die For Caramel Corn to prime rib. Christmas Day it was forty five degrees amd sunny, which was hands down the best present of the whole year.
Since our idea of excitement is to sit on the couch drinking Fat Tire beer, eating ripple chips and French onion dip and watching the Hannah Montana movie (honest to God, it was the best thing on television, and how pathetic is that?), it's probably no big surprise that we don't do New Year's parties. And now that we no longer live in the suburbs of Hermiston, Oregon, the neighbors no longer set off various types of large ammunition at the stroke of twelve, so I don't have to stand out in the pasture in my jammies making sure the horses don't run through the fence.
I've also never been much for resolutions, and my husband can't imagine what part of himself he would need to improve other than his bank account and his knees, but either would require doing something other than ranching. Which leaves not much to chat about on the ol' blog in regards to the new decade and all that. Instead, I'll send you over to my alternate blog, where I was equally at a loss so I slapped together a little New Year's story for your reading pleasure.
Lovin' the New Year