Ducks, cats, and pork.

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To each their own.  To cats and ducks, from the pig.  A pork shoulder roast with buttered cabbage and raw whole milk.  It isn't bacon.  As my tastes are now, it is better.  Too much bacon is sugared, some is over smoked, some seems too thin or maybe rancid.  Price is no guarantee.  Actually spendy and cheap stuff have more in common than either with the middle.  I was enjoying odds and ends until rancidity became the norm.  The garbage bin has been pulled back while out.

Anyway.  Fed, all of us.  The furnace is going.  It was set to 72° as a starter.  If I take a nap shortly, begin working, or two hours slip by, I'll turn it down to 68°.  It is just good to warm, well, in the mornings.  Especially having been cold most of the night.  And it was strangely cold out there.  I believe it was eight, but frost was hanging off everything.  A bit of precip or humidity, whichever with wind heading westerly with a slightly northern tick.  A strange pattern.  That would have added to last night but not explained the blankets.

Never mind.  I am hoping to work, but food after extended accidental fasting is burning my dance card, and my love, doing dishes, is looking heavy in my arms.  Even sitting, but definitely gaming, are heavier still.  I'd still like to push to nine or ten.  It will help make it a nap, not a true failure to wake.  It increases the chance to gain and keep the day.  Legs hurt, from the cold last night.

Bleh.  Later.