Broke the vow, again
Twice each year, I complete an unnecessary physical task. At a certain moment, I vow to change. I whisper “This will be my last time”, before giving the big push. Today, again, I broke my vow.
The BBQ is outside. Scant hours before, it was inside. Protected from the elements. A binary situation. The “beast” is too heavy to move in one piece, so I do a partial disassembly. I then clear a route (through the kitchen) and lift the beast, alone, over the summit (the stairs between the house and the garage). With that, I prove that I’m stll “fit”. With assistance from another able-bodied person, a simple task. But by myself, I manage, barely.
One more nod to the diefinition of insanity.
But why? Well, we live close to the ocean, and metal will dissolve. Or so I’ve been told. We used to send cheaper BBQs to the dump, regularly. Rust. This one is going into its next season (the sixth, I think) looking as solid as it did during the original “great unboxing”. I think I’m winning here. Finaancially. Physically, less certain. No injuries, other than to my pride.
And will I grill? I might. I have, in past. If people come to visit, it gives me an alternative to the air fryer, even if the steaks are just as tasty. All a matter of choosing the rignt cut of beef. And the BBQ provides more grilling surface, so we have more options.
The job is now done for this half of the year. Perhaps I can recruit aid, for the next time. Sign up in the kitchen. Or the garage. I’ll check both locations before doing my solo show.
