Something requiring respite
I love my BBQ. Compared to all the other BBQs I’ve ever known, this one is the best. No hot spots, but lots of heat. A grill that even I can keep clean, now that we’ve abolished the wire brush and opted for a wooden shovel (that’s the shape, not the purpose). A scale that warns me of imminent fuel shortage. Large enough that I can cook what is required in one go; we even managed leftovers. A marvel of technology, and at a price that was barely more than all the failures I’ve dragged home from the discount hardware stores. Oh, you want the brand? Weber. Not a secret.
More company on hand, after a full day with the constructors. Yes, the basement chronicle continues, with the addition of a magical edge that will hold the suspended ceiling tiles. As well, the electricians came by; big news – we now have air. I got to do the honorary “twist the water flow valves” movement and hit chill on the master unit. Within minutes, the heat from outside was forgotten. Apparently we still need a small tweak, but I consider this to be real progress. Still a month of summer to go, minimum.
As well, I brought the appropriate bin to the curb, after dark, assuring that our yard smell level will drop. With bi-weekly pickups, I have been caught short too many times. As a household with two plus a mutt, we can skip; with a household of company, we dare not. Summer cooks the contents into something requiring respite.
