Cow Manure, Quarters, and Sugar Cookies

     Tonight's going to be a long one folks. I can feel it in my bones, I've got the writin' bug.  I mean, one can only assume that, with a title like this, I've got a lot of explaining to do. And true that is. (Ignore the fluctuating grammar because it will most likely be a cross between a hillbilly and a Jedi. Why? Who knows...) The only thing y'all have going for you is that this post may be cut short by my strong need for a shower.  That's a post all in itself.

     So we can begin this journey with a little explanation of the most questionable ingredient of tonight's title: Cow Manure.  I love it. The smell has been seeded deep in my heart and equated with home since I was a little girl.  As if cows weren't lovable enough with their rough tongues, soft moo, and of course hamburgers, their stench has an irreplaceable quality to it.  For me, there isn't a geographical barrier I cross that signifies home. I am simply there with the first whiff of digested grass and methane. Friday night it hit me like a freight train as I leveled onto the valley floor.

     Home, I made it! Population 125,971 + 1. (If you didn't already know this about me, I am incredibly gifted in the subject of random numbers, things I will never actually need to know (and I like using parentheses to try and throw you off when I deviate slightly from my subject (but it is my blog and therefore I shall use parentheses as frequently as I please)))
My enthusiasm is largely due to the burden of the semester I left behind in Santa Barbara.  Yes contrary to everyone's beliefs, I do work there- hard work. I can honestly say in over three months of living within three miles of the beach, I went four times. Count 'em, four. But now is really not the time for a pity party about the terrible (I'm being overly dramatic and slightly sarcastic) life I lead at college.

     All of this to say, I am thankful to be home for three weeks. The family is loud and the food is good. We are running around doing last minute gifts, baking like banshees, and Christmas party hopping from house to house.  'Tis the life. Of course, this time wouldn't be complete without my small militia of cats.  It's a good thing I'm good with numbers because my exponentially growing group feline friends is putting that skill to good use.  I currently have six, each one special in its own way.  But don't worry friends only one is residing in my bed tonight... along with the dog... and a nine year old that's afraid of the dark. It's ridiculously crowded cozy.

     I bragged in the beginning of this post about the aspirations I had as to the length of this blog, but the angry war between my stomach and the 6 lbs of sugar I've consumed today have changed my mind.  I shall toss and turn sleep now, blog later.  The quarters and sugar cookie tales shall remain a mystery until the morning.  Cliff hangers are cruel, I know.