At first we are all shocked. It has been so long since we've seen the sun that we're like Bradbury's crazy kids from All Summer in a Day. We're running around basking in the yellow-orange glow, shielding our gray-trained eyes, trying not to go blind from sudden sunlight.
Then, after the initial shock wears off, we scatter like cockroaches when the lights come on: To the beach! To the lake! To the park! To the sidewalks! To the great and wonderful outdoors! Hurry, hurry, hurry ... before it rains AGAIN!
I decide to barbecue.
No one is at my house any longer, so I only need to use half the grill. This makes clean-up, which is the main deterrent for grilling, a little easier. I do love the taste of barbecue, and this afternoon will not be the first time (nor the last, I'm sure) that I grill for just myself. The neighbors are out, too, some sitting around a patio table having drinks, others power-washing the house, and somewhere music is playing loudly from a radio (thank goodness, tolerable stuff).
I only need to grill one burger, but I throw on two. While the meat cooks, I enjoy a little afternoon drink at the outdoor bistro table and get myself acclimated. The sun still shines, which is slightly unfathomable to me due to the constant and depressing weeks of poor weather. Eventually the newly leafed trees block the patio sunlight, so I settle onto the back step to eat my burger ... uh ... burgers. Yes, I eat both; one with a toasted bun and one without.It's a glorious day, a marvelous day, a wonderful day. The windows are all open, so the smell of barbecue wafts into the house and stays there for hours after I clean the grill and close it up for the evening. Today is just another Pleasant Valley Sunday ... except that it's Saturday.
And then ... it rains. Again and again and again and again it rains. Even on days that the sun comes out a tiny bit, it still rains. Sure, the grass is green now and the trees are lush now and the flowers are bursting now, but enough already. I'm jonesing for another barbecue here, people.
Maybe, just maybe, the sun will come out ... tomorrow ... bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun. (I couldn't resist.) Either way, I have steak tips in the freezer. I'm ready, sun; I am so ready.
