The weather brightened up just a bit yesterday and I took my kids on a walk around the neighborhood.
It may not be perfectly sunshiny and wonderful yet but we took this tiny break in the dreary weather and we ran with it. Literally.
As we walked, trotted and scooted along I came to a dead stop in front of our friends’ house at the end of the street. It was 6:30 pm and they were . . . grilling!
The aroma was amazing.
My oldest son turned around and said, “Mommy, what are you doing?”
I had my nose in the air. Sniffing.
I motioned for them to come back where I was and when they reached me I said, “Do you smell that?”
“Meat,” they said.
Yes. Meat.
This was our friends’ house. They moved here from New Orleans a couple of years ago. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what they were grilling, but I imagined it to be Cajuny. Something like this with a Cajun seasoning . . .
Oh, yeah. Looks like some other folks have the same thoughts I do. They cannot wait for it to be grilling season. So they force the issue.
We walked down the next street. I was carrying the scooter and plastic ride-on truck by now. Lucky me.
That’s when I smelled another one. Someone else was cooking something really garlicky outdoors. Something like this, perhaps . . .
Oh, man. I’ll bet this scene was repeated all over America wherever it wasn’t 30 below. The calendar says spring is officially here and whether it’s warm or not we’re going to grill, darn it!
We rounded the curve back to our house and ran into our neighbor across the street. You know, the one who doesn’t eat meat. He was mowing his lawn. Mowing, man!
He stopped and waved furiously. “Happy spring!” he called.
We yelled, “Happy spring!” back. It was so very Pleasantville-ish.
I loved it. But I couldn’t help but think, You’d have a better spring if you’d throw a few steaks on the barbie, neighbor.
For all I know he was preparing his dinner with that lawn mower.
As for the rest of us, let the grilling commence!
