Soggy Meats

Dudes. Can someone please tell me why it's RAINING IN MAY? Still?!

Gah!

I'm so over this weather. It finally cleared up in NorCal a few weeks ago and has been downright hot since -- a welcomed change to the dreary dampness we'd been dealing with for our long ass winter. The sun came out, baseball was on the tube, shorts were on the (ultra pasty) legs, sandals on the feet, vegetables in the garden. ALL THINGS WERE WELL!

Now it's raining again.

And it's supposed to rain all weekend. As in rain-all-weekend-when-we're-having-our-first-summer-bbq.

So friggen annoying I could just strangle myself with my rainjacket. Can we please hold hands and hope that, for even just the time when the peeps are at my house, the weather looks like this:



Meanwhile, meats have been milked and are currently busily absorbing all the spiciness of hubby's rub applied this morning with much drowsy love. Sound pornographic? Mmhhmm, I could see why you'd think that. We have an unhealthy relationship with meats in our house.

Hubby rubs the meats. I dance with the meats. Hubby milks the meats. I rub salt on the breasts. It's a good time. Please don't call the police. It's all consensual.

So, speaking of drowsy marinading, we have also had periods of drowsy Backtacking within the last 12 hours in the Finny house.

With all the talk of smoked meats and bbq party planning, my mind was too wound up to sleep when we hit the hay around 12:30. And then at 1:30am when nothing had changed and I was still staring listlessly at the ceiling fan thinking about all the stuff I wouldn't be getting done during our luscious bbq feast, I decided to just quit playing pretend like I was going to sleep and went down the hall to the office/craft room/library/ski storage/computer workshop/knitting corner/Rocket's love shack/storage room to make a dent in my BackTack project.

And make a dent I did! Not to give too much away, but let's say that the once stuffed but unassembled bits of Softie carnage are now assembled, trimed, festooned with buttons and sitting self-supported on my craft shelf waiting for their special accompaniment that I hope to construct this weekend. You know, with all my extra time that I'll have after cleaning up the detritus of a college baseball team on a BBQ enhanced tear through my house and property. Yes, this crafting will happen fer sure.

Although, if the weather keeps up at its current (AGGRAVATING) pace, I will be trying my hand at making one of these babies. But since I can't find the pattern, it'll be freehand. Scary? Oh yes. There will be much bad word screaming, I'm sure.

Oh, and I'll need to be getting to the nursery for some desperately needed fertilizing juices for the vegetables. Not sure if it's the rain, cool weather or lack of nutrients in the beds, but the lower leaves of my maters are looking yellowy (GASP!!!) so now I must fertilize. Organically. And with great vigor.

So, get out your checklists people:
#1: Hope for sun
#2: Hope for magic in the form of a successful sewing project
#3: Hope for magic in the form of revitalized mater leaves
#4: Drink many, many glasses of Aussie Shiraz before weekend is over

We'll regroup next week to see how we're doing.