Last weekend I was in NC roasting a large 1/2 hog on a grill. We put it on at 10 PM and I was sleeping on the ground outside, waking up every hour to put coals on. There were some teenage boys also sleeping outside. One in particular asked me every time I put coals on "When is the pig going to start to cook?"
I kept explaining the hot coals I was putting under the grill was cooking the hog.
At 3:00 AM this boy woke me and said, "Mr. Curley, the pig is really cooking now!" I looked up to see the grill engulfed in flames and billowing black smoke. Apparently enough fat from the pig has fell on the hot coals to make some flames leap, and thus set the pig aflame.
We did get the fire out, and after an inspection determined that only the outside was burnt. The inside still needed cooking. We cooked it and feasted Saturday night. A thing saved.
During the battle (with the blaze) somehow my wedding ring slipped off my finger and has not been found. This is the first time I have lost it. I dug through dirt and ashes, but no ring. I was reminded of the play The Jeweler's Shop when one spouse tries to sell her ring back to the jeweler - who won't accept it as her spouse is still alive. A thing lost.
Oremus pro invicem!
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