Bringing Home The Bacon

Roles were reversed here at the Mansion on Tuesday evening, and I ain't talkin' about Sister Schubert's! 

When temps were not rising on Tuesday to melt the snow, I stayed home. Farmer H said he'd bring me lottery tickets. YAY! I was happy to relinquish that daily duty to him! I was also happy when Farmer H declared that he would just cook himself some eggs for supper Tuesday evening!

After all, I had brought home the bacon (before Thanksgiving, when I got two smaller packs, but then found the thick-cut kind I use for the roasted vegetables). And also, I had bought another dozen eggs on Monday, and some biscuits, thinking Farmer H might like them with some ham for a supper this week.

Here's the thing. I don't fry eggs. I don't like them that way. I will scramble or boil, but if you want a fried egg around here (or three), you have to do that for yourself. I offered to make the (canned) biscuits for Farmer H, but he said no, he didn't need them. He couldn't decide on ham or bacon. When I said I had two extra packs, he picked bacon.

While I lay down for a late nap, Farmer H fried himself bacon and eggs, and added three Hawaiian rolls to the meal. He was happy. I was happy. 

All I had to do was clean up the bacon grease left in the pan before washing it and the egg-encrusted plate and fork. Baby steps...