Memorial Day marks the official start of summer, particularly on the East Coast. Time to drag out the white shoes and summer linens. Fire up the grill. Take down the storm windows. Put up the screens.
Living in Southern California, where it's almost always perpetually spring/summer, you see people in white shoes all year round. I find white shoes (with the exception of Keds) appalling any time of year personally. I've only in the last few years brought myself to wear open-toe shoes.
There is a phenomenon known to us So Calers as June Gloom. The marine layer pretty much blankets the city and it's cool and foggy until about midday. Then it burns off and we're left with a basically nice, cool day--mid 70's. I can live with that. We've had a lot of June gloom this May. Not an altogether unusual phenomenon. As a bonus, mid 70's is nice.
A lot of people complain about the weather when it's like this. Not me. I hate hot weather. I used to be a cold person. I never liked extreme heat but it didn't really bother me. Ever since I was pregnant, though, I've turned into a hot person. I hate the heat, but I hate huge electric bills even more. Last summer, during peak heat our electric (with water and sewage) bill hit a wopping $1000. I could have thrown up.
I like the things summer brings. The barbeques. The pool parties. The beach. Sun dresses. But a moderate 80 would do me just fine.
In honor of Memorial Day, we barbequed tonight. I made corn. It was delicious. I love corn on the cob. I used to consider it just a vehicle for salt and butter, but really sweet, crisp, corn is the best. I don't even mind that it sticks in my teeth.
I got white corn. I think it is far superior to yellow corn. I cook it on the grill. I just started doing that last summer. I don't know what took me so long. If you haven't ever tried it you should.
Speaking of grilling, I understand that grilling is usually the domain of the husband. But as with all other cooking duties, with the exception of an occasional Hamburger Helper, I do it all. And I do the grilling. If there was only one thing I could change about my husband, it would be that he grilled. (OK, maybe that wouldn't be the one thing but it's right up there.)
I don't mind grilling, but it would be bonus if I didn't have to do it. Also, there's some contention about how done is done when it comes to cooking meat. I grew up in a family that liked theirs practially still on the hoof, so cooking past rare is hard for me. Chuck likes his meat cooked medium. He ends up always having to put his back on. Perhaps I could relegate the bbq duties to him under the guise of him getting his meat cooked properly . . . . that won't work. He reads my entries and will know what I'm up to. Oh well.
So, until next time. . .