The male part of the family went to a camp-out, for men only, over the weekend. Five hundred of them. I had a peaceful time at home. Nothing broke, or at least nothing that I couldn't fix. I can't really remember. But there were several days in a row when I had my freedom to eat ice cream at midnight if I had felt like it. (As it is, I;m not very fond of ice cream, and I rarely make it until ten pm.
Those days led into the homecoming, and what it brought. We are the ultimate recyclers. There were hundreds of pounds left of food when the five hundred males broke camp. Yep, it came here.
Wouldn't you want to be a turkey and have a beautiful green salad with croutons and cherry tomatoes? Or, to be a chicken with biscuits and gravy for breakfast? The equids (that's horses and donkeys) were not forgotten, with lots of raw corn on the cob.
The glory lasted for three days. Now the only thing left seems to be onions. It's sliced onions in VATS. And they are starting to ferment a bit. Heh. The goats love them, and so do the chickens, but they can only eat so much.
Last camp-out I ended up putting some of the fermenting onions on my budding compost heap. It smelled badly enough to keep any rodents away, I'm sure. A good thing, because the cats were not to be seen near the heap, either.
So anyway, I was thrilled, and the animals were equally thrilled, and I was feeling good that nothing went into a dumpster.
And. there was really good stuff, too, I hear, and all that went to a women's shelter. Yeay!
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