Crock-pot turkey breast.
I spent the day at camp, in a muddy field next to the Kansas River, marching Cub Scouts around and around in ever-expanding circles towards infinity. It was hot, although not as hot as it will be later this week. How can a place be simultaneously so hot and so muddy? It seems impossible here, which is not the Everglades or a tropical rain forest or any such kind of place. And yet there it is.
I am ashamed to complain about tiredness because there are people doing this same thing every day all week, and indeed every day all summer. Other people. Better people, stronger people.
Turkey breast in a crock pot is nice to come home to, though. I will explain more later, hopefully with pictures.