So I have this barbecue, and I’m not real confident about using it. But I’ve also got this brand-new deck, and the weather is finally nice, and, well.
A while back, when My Dear Miss Q was staying here briefly, she, being full of confidence, suggested we barbecue. We actually did it a few times, and it went well.
But she’s not here any more, and…well, I barbecued tonight.
The wind kept blowing out the coals.
Probably I was too skimpy with the lighter fluid, because, ew, foul chemicals all over my food?
Anyway, finally the coals stayed lit and got hot.
And then I probably put the chicken on too soon, because I was all excited. They burst into flames. There is no picture of that, because, well, FLAMES, EVERYTHING ON FIRE FLAMES!
I got the spray-bottle of water, and sprayed and sprayed. The over-the-back-fence neighbor called over, What are you guys doing over there??
Eventually there was chicken burnt on one side and raw on the other and in the middle.
But even MORE eventually, there was cooked chicken, and it was pretty good.
And I still can’t believe that Jay is gone. Part of my brain is just not able to process that. I hadn’t seen him in a while; I was not part of the inner circle, not for a while now. But there won’t be any more lunches, or seeing him at cons, or emailed articles about wine or coffee or yoga with a note, “This made me think of you.”
I don’t know. Just: I don’t know.