A blog chronicling my departure from urban life on the east coast to sheep farm and cheese making life on the west coast. Still recounting the meals I have eaten in my new setting, but with more sheep thrown into the mix.
Wednesday, April 20, 2016
East Coast Parting
I had an unfortunate thing happen a month or so back...somehow a slew of photos I took after I returned to Philly from Florida suddenly disappeared from my computer and my life. Some were unimportant or not that big a deal to lose, but others I'm sorry to have lost. So here are some random photos from around that time, though not necessarily in chronological order. For example, when I left Philly to go to Tennessee for Thanksgiving, I rented a U-Haul truck and drove down. But there is no proof of that truck. Though the above photo does demonstrate that I got to visit my old home and see the Tebows. Well, there's no proof of the Tebows. In Tennessee I went through a few of the boxes I had lugged to a new storage unit and found my first ever passport.
Dad and I drank champagne and played a fair amount of cribbage.
In Philly C. and I went to Village Whiskey for burgers that made us happy.
Proof of bubbles and games.
A disgusting thing I saw in the Piggly Wiggly.
Another meet up with the mittens.
I also returned for a second visit with Mr. Ass. He asked me if I'd help break down and butcher a buck he had recently killed. It was cool.
And ridiculously and macabre-ly photogenic.
After getting the deer into more manageable parts, the next day we further cut it into more reasonable cuts.
It was fun and productive.
The photos I lost that most sadden me are of my visit to Ohio, where I got to meet Cuz K. and A.'s little baby girl, who was no more than three or four days old when I arrived...I think? Her middle name is my name and I'm at least kind of a godmother/auntie and I love her and I basically just held her and read Harry Potter for the week I was there. I was so happy for them and their family and she was just a delight. What worries me a little is that I won't get to see her all the time and eventually she'll grow up and I'll be like, no you should still be able to fit in my arms. And she'll be all 'I don't even know who you are.' Or something.
Or, rather, this was the first meet up with the mittens. And then the photos above were from the second.