Here you see the remnants of our first grilled outdoors steaks of the season. Couple of nice little boneless rib eyes, rubbed vigorously with coarse salt and pepper, then grilled rare and doused with A-1 sauce for L, and (sorry Robin) Blue Cheese dressing for me. Served with garlic mashed potatoes made with real sour cream and butter and peas. With butter. Well, duh. Of course.
I needed to cook outside today. It was not the warmest day we've had so far, but I think my area has had all it can stand of a long, miserable winter and reluctant spring. We had a few days a while back when the temperature got up over 50 degrees - and those were wonderful - but we knew they were anomalies. We're almost into April now, and we just can't stand it any more.
I met a friend for coffee today. She showed up in her Saab with the top down. While we chatted, a young man and his girl rode by on a motorcycle. The thermometer didn't ever nudge past 45 here today.
We can't wait any longer for spring. Odds are we'll get one more snowstorm, but we won't shovel it. "Screw that," we'll say. "Nature put 'er down, Nature'll take 'er away. No sense gettin' a hernia over something that's gonna melt inside a week."
No shit. We do that.
Even if it's a foot.
Our New England gets up and just refuses to be bullied by the weather one more time this season. So there. Time will win out, after all. Spring will come. It always has.
