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Why I read romance novels

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I get this question a lot it seems, and I'm not sure why.  What is is about romance novels that make those who do not read them, question me as to why I read them?  Is it because they contain *gasp* sex? they whisper.  Am I trying to escape from something? they ask knowingly.  No, actually I'm not, thanks.  Are they serious?  These lovely people cannot fathom why I want to read "smut".  It's as if they don't consider it literature, and so I quickly tell them that many, if not most romance novels are very well written, and the stories are full of romance, angst, history, fabulous plot lines, and yes, sex.  That always gets an eyebrow raise!  Usually these conversations are funny, and it ends with me recommending an author for them to start out with if they're interesting in taking the plunge.  I have no idea if they actually read the book I recommend, but I've done my part for the good of the genre. I remember when I first began getting...
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Like any good mistress....

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....I am keeping chickens.  The history of keeping chickens for eggs, meat, and feathers goes way, way back, and I won't bore you with a lecture.  Needless to say, we're doing something many have done before us.  I resisted at first, thinking about the smell, the poo, and the general overall ick that would come along with them.  Then I visited a friend and her flock.  I was hooked.  Hers free range and actually greeted me as I stepped out of the truck.  As I watched them crowd around the feed, I thought "I can do this!"  Next, I set out learning about breed, because yes, there are many, many breeds of chickens!  Not all chickens lay white eggs, the majority lay brown, and then there are those that lay blue ones.  I agonized for weeks over what breed I wanted, then I realized I could order multiple breeds at once!  Happy thought indeed!  I decided to narrow it down to 4 breeds, and 12 chickens to start with.  I didn't want...
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Piper

Tonight, around 8pm, we lost Piper.  I have to get this out, so please forgive me for the rambling. Piper was 9 years old, but never acted like she was an older dog.  She was full of energy and life.  Piper was probably the sweetest dog I have ever had the privilege of having in my life.  She always wanted to be where you were, whether it be in the bedroom, or in the living room--she was there. At the beginning of this month, I noticed she was breathing funny.  Her entire stomach was going in and out, along with her chest, and I knew something wasn't right.  She wasn't eating well, but we had just changed foods, so I thought she didn't like what we had bought.  We went back to the old food, and she still wouldn't eat.  She sounded like she had a cold, but I couldn't shake the feeling there was something else going on.  Our vet confirmed her diagnosis of blastomycosis, a fungal infection that coats the inside of the lungs with a thick yeas...
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