The bacon is out of the dry cure and hanging up to either form a pellicle or continue for some extra days and become de facto unrolled pancetta to be sliced paper thin and used for those mythical melons I will try to grow again this year.
I'm supposed to get up before dawn tomorrow to go a-hunting for feral pigs. So tomorrow I will either be neck deep in pig-butchery (which I'm will but not very equipped or experienced to do) or not, depending on Arthur's skill as pig hunter. Mine is non-existent.
I'm being visited at work by Tink and Wendy (superb fairy wrens) I think they're courting. They're hell to get a decent photo of, despite only being about 2 feet from my window.
The sunset is better at staying still, even if it is further off.
Nine (well eleven now) hours ago, tomorrow, you posted pictures from the other side of the world, from an island I'll never see and had never heard of two years ago. I love the internet.
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