Hey everybody! Hailey here. Yesterday we walked down to Bart's Creek and I chose the wrong place to cross. It was deeper than I thought and I face-planted in the muddy bank. I didn't like it much even though I am smiling here. 

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This was the sunset on Thursday evening. It was a pretty quiet day wildlife-wise today. We did have a herd of seven deer cross the meadow early this morning. We were gone most of the morning on a trip in to Laramie so we don't really know what happened while we were gone.The moose made an appearance late afternoon but only down by the salt lick and he didn't come into the meadow. Still, he was here.

We sat on the front porch with our bread pudding with whiskey sauce that we made from our failed bread and just listened to the evening sounds. The Great-Horned Owl was in the Ewok Forest hoo-hoo-hooing, the first time we've heard him this year. We've had a Great Horned for many, many years and since I don't think they live that long it must be offspring of theirs still living in our woods. A very nice thought. Hearing the owl made up for the lack of wildlife. (Hah, listen to me complaining we only saw a herd of seven deer and the moose at the salt lick! Maybe we're becoming spoiled?)

Rick went inside to do something and I stayed on the porch, just taking it all in. Here are the thoughts that ran through my head.

I hear:

• the gurgling and splash of Bart's creek down in the bottom
• the "mexican fiesta bird" aka the Ruby-Crowned Kinglet singing his little Mexican ditty : mammachita-mammachita-mammachita (repeat super fast)
• the Great Horned Owl
• the light-saber-wielding-whizzing of the hummingbirds
• the chitting of the chipmunks.

I smell:

the smoke from our woodstove mingling with the scent of wet sage.

I stayed on the porch until the owl stopped as night fell.

And I have this as a final good-bye to the evening. 

Do you have any more questions as to why we want to be here?

This post has nothing to do with lemons.

I made a batch of bread on Monday evening. I use the "No Work Bread" recipe/technique from Mark Bittman. It seemed a bit moist, but it fermented nicely and I think in NJ it would have made a phenomenal loaf of bread. Mine cooked forever when I baked it mid-afternoon on Tuesday. The crust was poorly colored, but thick and dry. The crumb was still moist. Basically, it was a failed attempt at bread. 

So with the failed bread, we tried a dessert recipe I'd been wanting to cook for a long time: Emeril Lagasses's New Orlean's Style Bread Pudding with Whiskey Sauce.

Now that was absolutely delicious!

The bread we did not use went to the birds.

And, I tried again today. It came out better, but I still have work to do to sort out cooking this bread at high altitude. More about all the affects of high altitude in a future post.

(By the way, this little cow reminds me of an old blog post. Click here to see what I mean!)

My last post was written about the moose visit on Tuesday evening. Wednesday morning was the ultimate wildlife TV show out our window. Probably the like of which we will never see again. It started with the moose.

From this angle his newly sprouted antlers look like a big dog bone to me!

This post continues in MORE below, just click through. I am trying to abide by Rick's rules of blogging since we are now sharing this space.

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