so bury me by some sweet Garden-side

[freckles_and_doubt]

Yesterday we roasted a pig. Or, rather, my Evil Landlord paid a gentleman of our acquaintance untold dosh to set up in our garden at 10am with an electric spit, a box of coals and a carcass, and at 8pm the 40 or so dear and close friends we'd invited around all ceremonially burned their fingers on the crackling. Any time I vaguely think about becoming vegetarian, I think of pork crackling, and the impulse slinks away going "Oh, all right, then, I take your point" in a rather shamefaced fashion.

Of course, said giant party (occasion: Gosh We Have A Newly Renovated House, Come and Celebrate, and Absolutely Not Anything To Do With The Evil Landlord's 40th Birthday Which Was Uncelebrated In January) also necessitated me visiting four supermarkets, some of them twice, between 8.30am and 3pm, and spending the entire day constructing meringues, chocolate brownies, various salads, garlic roast potatoes, and unearthing sufficient utensils to feed the hordes. Then I cleaned up after it all, resulting in four bags of recycling and two of rubbish, plus the plastic-wrapped pig carcass, dealing with which is uncomfortably like burying a small body.

Today, by way of encore, I hit the local nursery and acquired about ten bags of compost and a small, portable herbacous border. Several hours of digging later, I have slightly persuaded the blasted heath of our garden to take a few tottering steps away from the Dark Tower in the approximate direction of Lothlorien, and have thoroughly doused it in water by way of encouragement. (I have also fulminated mightily about our gardener, who is proving something of a broken reed in the "doing anything at all to the garden I want, describe or expect" department, phooey).

However, today plus yesterday means my feet are sore, my legs are sore, my arms ache, my back aches, my hands are in shreds, there is dirt under my fingernails, I've sliced my fingers and put my weird wrist out again hauling bags when I shouldn't. I am, however, happy to report that (a) the new bath (which I hadn't tried out until tonight as it's been too bloody hot for baths) is nothing short of beautiful, and (b) it was all absolutely worth it.

I'm going to bed now. I ache.

Comments

[stringgeek.livejournal.com]

Pictures, pls? :-)

I'm sorry you're worn out, but it sure sounds as if it was worth it!

It does sound as if you need a new gardener, though.

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Will sort out some pictures later, hopefully.

The problem is that I have a new gardener, he's the son of the old one, who retired. Jackson, the old one, was brilliant and knew considerably more about gardens than I do: he'd just quietly get on with it. This one knows nothing and seems to do only the things he feels like doing regardless of instructions. I've now told him twice to dig in the compost, and he persists in dumping it on top of the impacted earth. Am narked.

[https://me.yahoo.com/a/WV9kUnB5mt.HdD49w_n.yTwSIbTyS4Gg#cf8f8 (from livejournal.com)]

Pictures?
Pictures!
http://comovedy.com/2010/03/17/pig-on-a-spit/

[(Anonymous)]

Oops, that was me.
(sort of) obviously.

Stv

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

And luvverly pics they are too. Thank you! I think I took about three, all of them boring. Pigs of this epic nature deserve to be properly memorialised.

Dude

[first-fallen.livejournal.com]

That crackling, Jesus Christ. There's a reason the word "crack" is in there. I think the meringues and cream would've undone me had I not lined my digestive system with pork fat :P.

But srsly, it was good and awesome and slightly scary (esp the bit where people were pulling chunks of flesh off the roasting carcass by firelight). Thank you :)

Re: Dude

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

There's a giant tupperware of pork meat in our fridge, and about eight bags of it in the freezer, plus the five tupperwares I gave to people as doggy bags. There is no crackling left, which is possibly fortunate since, as you say, it is evil incarnate.

Jeremy came to pack up the equipment yesterday, you apparently made quite an impression on him with your tendency to snitch a piece of crackling, say "Oh god I feel sick", rinse, repeat :>. I hope there are no long-term ill effects.

Re: Dude

[first-fallen.livejournal.com]

Lols. Pork overload! Drowning in pork!

Neh, the effects are very short-term. It's basically an inability to digest the fats as I have no gall bladder to shoot out bile to emulsify it. I feel sick as long as it takes the fats to pass through my gut. I just have no self-control or sense of self-preservation and will merrily eat things that are bad for me ad infinitum until I collapse.

But it was good crackling, mmmm. The smell of the pork meat was making me feel ill though, I really don't like the taste of pork.

Re: Dude

[wolverine-nun.livejournal.com]

We have powered through our tub, thanks. It was great! How many presents did the EL score?

Re: Dude

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

At last count, tipple, more tipple, specialised glasses for two kinds of tipple (one set with Celtic knotwork) and a set of steak knives. Collectively we scored two boxes of Lindt and a bunch of stuff for the garden. So the short answer is, not a huge amount, but very highly focused into food and drink. Well, darn.

[mac1235.livejournal.com]

Epic party!

[extemporanea.livejournal.com]

Roast pig is good, but it's always the people-mix that makes these things.

[schedule5.livejournal.com]

I miss your food, and your parties, and you :(.

It sounds like a great one!