If you are quick enough . . .

. . . there is some crackling in the fridge . . .
 
At least that’s what I told Mrs W.  This week she took heed of what I said a snaffled some quickly.  It rarely makes dinner time.
 
Roast pork tonight.  We buy it on the bone and start to cook it in the morning at maximum oven temperature to get the best crackling, which is then removed for the joint to be wrapped in foil to slow cook until the evening when it will (usually) be moist and tender retaining all its flavour.
 
The wind has turned to the north and blown most of the tin cans from our target area and spread them over the lawn.  I’ll get them when Darragh has gone away.
 
Typical Sunday.  Sunday breakfast late morning followed by Sunday Dinner mid evening with pill dispensers filled and general vegging out to fill in the gaps.