Pork Armageddon.

I discovered last week that pork butt (shoulder) roasts up much better than the ribeye roast I've been getting. The butchers informed me this is because it's loaded with fat, and I went to get another one. Their guess at two pounds turned out to be more than three pounds, and while they would have cut it down, I figured I'd make it work. That turned out to be having six people over for dinner, but that was fine, because they're great people, and they brought mashed potatoes, homemade applesauce, and chocolate chip muffins.

The weather this weekend has been what we call "Unreasonably Fucking Cold" (also known as "November" in New England). I left the motorcycle show in San Mateo yesterday afternoon for a shivering cold ride along Skyline and down 84; this morning, there was ice on my windshield. Apparently it snowed up on Skyline, and they brought out the snowplows and spread sand around (I heard about it as a warning to motorcyclists). It's currently 35F up in San Rafael, and it's supposed to go down to freezing for the next three nights. I'm thinking more carefully about my trip out to the Mojave after Christmas.

I'm wondering about getting a place of my own; I've never really had one. I don't have much furniture, so what do I want my place to look like? Would I leave the space open? Buy art? Live without a TV? (I watch a fair amount of TV.) I don't know. I'm curious to find out.