Domestic D

This morning I was awakened by the smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen. I couldn't believe my nose. I've been ripped out of beautiful sleep several times by silent sledgehammers, but rarely by something that doesn't justify violence. Then I remembered we had my favorite kind house guest; a couch crasher that knows how to cook. I love going out to brunch on the weekends but I love my pajamas more, and it was wonderful to just climb out of bed and have a really good breakfast right here at home.
And it gets even better.
Tomorrow is Easter and the only cooking I have to do is my special green bean creation. Dearest Daryl, another fabulous DH, is making us his amazing Hawaiian specialty, Kalua Pig. It's a little hard to keep the neighbors away when cooking a whole pig in a huge pit in the backyard, so he's going for the haole method; pork-roast in a slow cooker.
Since he's doing the cooking, I did the buying, and today I had to brave the unknown frontier of the grocery store all by myself. It was quite the learning experience.

Pork butt is actually a pork shoulder, without the bone.

Red wine vinegar is in the salad dressing aisle.

Water chestnuts are not canned vegetables. They are "ethnic" food.

My son's former friend who checked me out, (in the grocery store scanner cash register sense) has a something something something super engine something.

The school nurse in town has retired, but she's thinking about going back to work.