Oh Harold Camping, you’re having a bad day, aren’t you? Or maybe you aren’t because you have millions of dollars. Maybe it’s your followers who are having a really bad day. The ones who listened to you and believed in you and cashed in their bank accounts and retirement funds, gave up jobs, houses and pets and told their kids goodbye and now… they’re still here.

Are they disappointed? Relieved? Confused?

The real story happens tomorrow when everyone wakes up and they aren’t in heaven. Let’s see what happens then.

In the meantime, what to do on the last day of the world that isn’t? How about my dad’s specialty egg breakfast:

Followed by a wine tasting:

In the lovely Chelan valley

We visited Hard Row to Hoe, the vineyard of a friend of ours with a bordello theme. They make a wine called Shameless Hussy and offer stellar gift options:

As cute as the panties are, we actually came to sample their 2010 wines still in the barrel. These wines are tannic with shallow flavors now but will develop depth as they continue to age. Hard Row to Hoe offers a chance to buy a “future” in young wines by paying for the wine now and picking it up in a year when it’s bottled. During the year you can come in and taste your wine as it develops, see how the wine matures and learn about the aging process. If I lived here, I’d be all about it. I find wine making fascinating. And then there’s all the sampling:

We ate lunch at Vin du Lac, complete with a wine flight:

And then moved on to Nefarious Cellars, which has a gorgeous view of Lake Chelan behind their tasting bar:

The rain started to fall just as we were leaving, so we drove home talking about dinner. After my biscuit post, my mom told me about the biscuits my dad’s mamaw used to make. My mom never had them but between my dad’s memories and the things my mom remembers hearing, we wanted to try to recreate them.

We used the Southern Living recipe from my previous post and rolled the dough out thin while preheating a cast iron skillet in the oven. Once the skillet got hot, we brushed it with butter, put the biscuits on it, brushed butter on the tops and baked them. I know! I know! Cholesterol, arteries, fat, etc. But seriously, we could have been raptured today and then who would care? In any case, how could you turn this down?

Crispy buttery goodness. Thinner, flatter, slightly chewy and not as salty as my previous attempt. We ate them with chicken soup (and more wine):

While the sun set over the river.

I’ve got an hour to find out if the world ends. If it does, I wouldn’t mind this being my last day.

Happy un-rapture day!