She declares a barbecue

[dianeduane]

It's 23 Centigrade outside OOA HQ in beautiful County Wicklow. (That's about 73 Fahrenheit for those of you who aren't up to doing the conversion right this moment.)  The sun is shining brilliantly. The hawthorn is in bloom. The cats are lying around on the gravel complaining (both verbally and nonverbally) about the heat. The lawn guy's just been, and the air smells of new-mown grass and honeysuckle. The fountain in the fishpond is going tinkletinkletinkle. It is that most astonishing of times on this planet, an Irish Bank Holiday weekend when there is no rain.

Only one thing to do now.

BBQ!!

(recipes follow shortly)

Now playing: - Tenchi Muyo! - Your Carrot Cake (Karaoke)

Comments

[cjmr.livejournal.com]

It finally got back down to 73 here yesterday evening, after a good week of high 80s and low 90s temperatures. 73 is not hot, it's blissfully cool!

[wolfette]

you do know the phrase "BBQ" is a rain-summoning spell - leastways it is in Scotland.

[lady-autumnstar.livejournal.com]

in beautiful County Wicklow

I cordially hate you. Wish I were there, too.

[handworn.livejournal.com]

We've got your rain over here in Philadelphia-- do you want to come get it? Please?

:-) Have fun!

[bellinghman.livejournal.com]

We've just had double the normal May rainfall over in this part of England, so I doubt that Co. Wicklow (just upwind) has been lacking either.

[cjmr.livejournal.com]

Could you send it back south a few dozen miles? We've already got water use restrictions in parts of Maryland.

[particle-person.livejournal.com]

Don't I know it. I walked home from work in sopping sandals two nights in a row. Chestnut and 33rd turned into a small pond with dead car-fish.

[jume.livejournal.com]

is there any chance of a picture of that blooming hawthorn? because the hawthorn I saw was decidedly unbloomy back in march and it would be much cooler than google imagin' for it.

Which reminds me of something Ray Bradbury once wrote...

[carpdeus.livejournal.com]

an Irish Bank Holiday weekend when there is no rain.

"Where in all of Ireland can a man lie down with a woman?"

He let that sink in.

"Three hundred twenty-nine days a damn year it rains. The rest it's so wet there's no dry piece, no bit of land you would dare trip a woman out flat on for fear of her taking root and coming up in leaves, do you deny that?"

---

The Cold Wind and the Warm, Ray Bradbury