Guess what I did?

That title kind of sounds like it could be a regular feature. I'm really hoping it doesn't turn out to be!

Last week I did my usual grocery shopping at HEB and bought a cart load of all our favorites. I had some meals planned, but mostly I bought things that my stomach told me to buy because I was STARVING!

Anyway, I saw this big, beautiful pork roast and had visions of me cooking it nice and slow and feeding it to my adoring family and friends. I know I have said that I can't buy regular beef or chicken at the store anymore, but this is pork we're talking about. Whatever convictions I have about food, pork is always the last to go. Did I mention my love for bacon? (Ok, ok, I didn't realize I had already mentioned it!)

I was unloading all the frozen stuff into the upright deep freezer when some of the food in there started to tumble out. I did a little dance because I did not want a frozen anything landing on my precious toes! In my hand was the big, beautiful pork roast still in the plastic grocery bag. I dropped it behind me and proceeded to rearrange the freezer. Basically, I pushed all the same stuff to the back that I've been pushing back there for a year or so. Stuff I have no intention of eating, but feel guilty throwing away. I managed to get everything stacked just so and my new grocery items in there and then I moved on to the pantry items.

Fast forward a couple of days ago. My deep freeze is located in my laundry room and every time I would go in there, there was this smell. At first, it just smelled like someone, son or husband, had gone in there and "released some gas" so I didn't think anything of it. Then, the next day, it smelled more like a dirty diaper and I didn't remember putting one in the trash can in there. We're also potty training so I searched really good for a surprise hidden somewhere. Nope. No diapers or surprises.

Yesterday, I couldn't take it anymore. It smelled like something had gone into my laundry to die, actually died and had begun the process of decomposition.

Well, remember that big, beautiful pork roast I had such visions for? It was still in the plastic grocery bag where I left it only now it was covered with a dirty t-shirt and some socks and it reaked of dead animal. Sometimes, when I leave something out (oh, yes, I've done this before) I find it during that gray time when you're not sure if it's had a chance to spoil. Like eggs, or milk, or not so frozen vegetables. I always take a minute to struggle over whether I should throw it out or not. This time, my only decision was where to put the rotting thing. Trash pick-up was scheduled for the next day, so I could just put it in there and never look back. E suggested I boil the thing and give it to the dog. No way. I love Chloe but I'm not fixing her a gourmet meal of rotting meat just so I can feel a little better about wasting $11!

So, in the big blue trash container it went, along with every fly in the neighborhood. "Have at it!" I said.