100 word minimum

Did somebody say "bacon"?

Sparky, lured toward the kitchen by the aroma of frying bacon.

We gave him some to try, but the idea of bacon seemed to be more appealing than the reality.

Cooking breakfast at home always sounds much nice than it really is, especially when your standard is the diner breakfast. The key aspects of diner breakfast being that it is cooked by someone else, much faster than I could, followed by the dishes being washed by someone else.

The cooking process took for-damn-ever, mostly because we do this so little that we've never developed a system. Mid-cooking, Oz had to run to the grocery store, because our elderly bacon had little blue spots on. As the process advanced, the air in the house filled with a mist of atomized pork fat. "Yay! We can get that diner smell in our clothes without having to go to a diner, where they would also wash the dishes!" I said as I ran around opening windows. Lucky for us, it was really warm today.

I think the house is about aired out, and we didn't set of the smoke alarm, so okay, not a bad way to usher in the Year of the Pig. On TV Japan last night, they did some YotP duty by running a special on the history of pork cookery in Japan, featuring some interesting (if you're into that sort of thing) stories about the transmission of pork cookery traditions to Japan from mainland Asia through Korea and Okinawa. The dramatizations showed guys with samurai haircuts getting very excited about salty chunks of fatback.

In other year-end Japanese news, nothing to do with piggies, a Buddhist temple had a festival for Fudo, the Immovable One with the flaming backdrop. The festival theme was praying for fire prevention. The main event? A bonfire.

I do like that holiday news.