Summer is I'Cumin In
We greeted the summer yesterday. At least I did; I can’t swear to what was passing through everyone else’s mind.
Summer woke late this year, held off by a spate of clouds and rain and unseasonable cold, not to mention my personal dislocation for a couple of weeks to attend to affairs in Illinois, during which the sun dodged about in the three-to-five-day window between here and there, keeping me in the chill. When it did arrive, it was with a sudden heat wave, as if angry for having overslept. You know how it is.
But having established her arrival, dame summer’s mood passed. The weather broke just a bit yesterday, and the day was warm instead of hot. I grilled—well, overgrilled—some bratwurst and Italian sausage, and turned out some potato salad, for those who like it. The star of the show was bacon-wrapped pepper thingies, a recipe from the Pioneer Woman’s website. Jehosephat, they were delicious, and you should make some of your own as early as possible, along with many other delicious-looking recipes she offers. I suggest eating them warm, when they are divine; cool, they are merely tasty. Ella was too pressed for time to add fresh-squeezed lemonade, so we made do with cartooned lemonade and tea. Homemade mint chip ice cream for dessert. A hilly ridge lies close on the west side, so the sun sank behind the trees as we chatted and ate our very, very summer dinner. An obliging breeze cleared away the charcoal smoke, and the mosquitoes left us alone.
Here’s to dame summer. She can be a wonderful lady when she’s not feeling bitchy.