I need to start posting here more often. There are so few hours in the day. One minute I’ll be writing at my desk or tending to a head in the pot, and the next, the day will have flown by. My foray into butchering has turned my life topsy-turvy, though in the best way possible.

I love Fleisher’s with an unholy passion that I reserve for few other things in my life: my wok, my cast-iron skillets, my Foot Buddy (which, for those of you who haven’t seen a lot of late-night Infomercials, is a cheap plastic electric heating board that warms my feet when I’m sitting at my desk.)

I don’t deserve half the love and attention I get from the good folks at the shop. Mostly, when I’m there I’m futzing around on a pig or ranting about gizzards. Josh will come up to me every hour or so and tell me that I’m doing it all wrong. So I try again.
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