Normally I would not juxtapose those two words, but now that I’m living in East Van, I have to tell you that they are for sale, very reasonably priced, walking distance from my house. They look about as appetizing as they sound. I’m going to try to find a recipe for them…. okay, now I feel really sorry for myself. They go into pork sausage. As a certain buddy of mine is forever saying, eyes wide and bright, “Good to know”. I suppose if I told you Pork Bung is for sale too, you’d believe me? I bet I know where that goes. It’s probably stuffed and steamed and turned into a delicacy of some description or other.
As you may be able to determine from the foregoing, I have now completed the shop. Everything Jeff put on the list has been purchased, and a couple of other things too. Now for a bit of kip until the Luddite shows up.
Pork uteri
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I’m trying very hard to get Pork uteri out of my head. It’s worse than the times I have gotten a song (that I hate) stuck in my head!
Hey, I’m bouncing up and down on my posture ball thinking Pork Bung Pork Bung Pork Bung!
And you guys had a lot of snow, eh?
You are a silly girl sometimes aren’t you? Apparently, we will probably break the 1972 record for snowfall before we are done. It’s the accumlated displaced snow that is causing the most trouble. It’s like being in a tunnel driving up our street and into our driveway — you can’t see anything but snow banks. I curse my injured elbow and rotator cuff that stop me from getting out and enjoying the sunny ski slopes.
I remember the winter of ’72. Eleven feet of snow in Montreal. The day I got married (starter marriage) it was minus 51 when you factored in the wind chill. The spring the starter-hubby and I took off for warmer climes (BC).
I’ve seen your pictures so I figure you must have been married at a really young age Kopper.
This is probably the year we got hit in Angus (outside Barrie). We lived in a subdivision, but other than that there was nothing but farm land. We were snowed in, a drift completely covered the front door and once the plows had gone through on the country roads leading to the highway, the telephone poles were buried. I was making tunnels in the snow with my two brothers.