Donna told me I could cook whatever I want on Father’s Day, and right away my alter ego Crouton deMenthe started whispering in my ear. Fortress of Smoke™, he said, and visions of ribs and chicken appeared before my eyes.
And then she told me I’d be cooking for twelve or so guests. I’m not sure the smoker’s big enough. No, it’ll do. I’ll put two half-chickens on the lower rack, as in the photo, and three racks of ribs on the upper. Damned if I’m going to smoke ribs all day and then have to hold back while everyone else gobbles them up!
But that’s tomorrow. Meanwhile, the patio is filthy, and there won’t be time to clean it up tomorrow, so … there was nothing for it but to get up at 0600 this morning to hose everything down and do a bit of scrubbing. I might be driving a friend to the monthly book club meeting this afternoon, so I washed Donna’s dirty car as well.* All done, and it’s not yet 0800. I think we’re ready for company, so long as Donna doesn’t mind cleaning up inside when she gets home from her sewing retreat later today … I’m beat.
“Whatever I want” for Father’s Day is turning out to be so much more than I dreamed!
*Why do I have Donna’s car and not my own? I swapped with her last night after dinner at her sewing retreat hotel.** She needed my SUV to haul equipment home after the retreat ends later today.
**Why doesn’t she just sew at home? Because it’s a retreat, see, and the whole idea is to get away from husbands and get some work done.