bienvenue à l'abattoir

Doesn't it sound exotic? Reading up on the secret to tender pork and came across the word abattoir. I am entranced; those around me, perplexed.

Survived the wedding in my heels, although there were incidents with some old ladies. I can only take this as a sign that the heels carried off the look I was going for. And I managed to maintain my classy facade, and didn't tell anyone that hos with fragile hips ought watch out the way their denture holders run. AND I had been drinking. This is major progress, and I take it as a sign of the maturity that was bound to come with age.

Anyhow. Today has been le bon dimanche.

Here's why:

• HN. It would be vulgar to go into particulars.

• Simple Green and the Shop Vac: A Love Story. I have absolutely DOUCHED my house today. With our travels, then my solo (work) travels, and HN juggling school and coaching, things like "putting things away", "taking out trash" and "living like humans" go right by the wayside. We have been planning this weekend as the big clean for a few days now, which means that pretty much ALL housekeeping starts to go by the wayside as "eh, it'll be taken care of this weekend" has become my mantra. We even found another chicken of the woods fungus that his dad had sent us, that we'd put aside and totally forgotten about (AND it turned out to be the source of a smell we'd both been wondering about for days. BONUS!) So basically my house looked like a crime scene, and not in the cool be on tv show way. Now, it looks good and smells good.
  

• Cheesy detective books. Like balm for the soul and awesome for wasting hours.

• Pork. Making delicious pork roast right now. Preeeeeetty excited.

• Wine. Yeah, it's that kind of party, just like back in the day in Hampden. Le Sigh. Were I feeling red, it would be like this, in case anyone's looking for tasty recommendations.