Sometimes, at the end of a long week, it’s nice to sit back, prop my feet up, and watch a pig slowly roast inside a box of coals.
Especially when it happens to be the Gravy Baby’s birthday (it’s officially next Friday, but we celebrated early with family). Yes, he is wearing an official pig roast t-shirt printed for the occasion (thanks, Aunt Angel and Uncle Jack).
Top left: the grill master, Uncle DF, backs the prized pig into the house; top right, just so we’re clear on his age; and bottom, right: the glorious coals bathing that delicious pig in its warming glow
What I’m saying is this: we may not be out of the woods yet in terms of settling in (I’m sitting on boxes as I type this), but at least our bellies are full of delicious, sweet pork.