Let the summer blasts begin!

Willie sent me a note from his perch at the Boise Hawks baseball game last night. He's covering the Hawks for the Idaho Press Tribune. Said he had just eaten a bad sandwich but had enchiladas waiting for him at home.

His comments followed my report of the first barbecue at the Lovestead. We had just finished dining on steak (for Bill), chicken breast and Wood's German sausage for me. I needed only one mention of "Why don't you get the grill cleaned up and let's have a barbecue." Bill did some weed spraying in the woods and then tackled the grill.

So, summer has officially begun. Last night's meat, some of which was slopped in moppin' sauce from Stubbs in Austin, Tex., was topped off by the last cutting of fresh asparagus (slopped in Imperial margarine and Tillamook cheddar cheese), fresh salad greens with Litehouse honey mustard dressing and broasted garlic bread by "The Bear" from Hope.

To say it was tasty just doesn't cut it in describing the pure delight of every bite.

I'm sure Willie's mouth is watering, thinking about being up here in a week or two and enjoying some of his dad's barbecue. And, I'm not minding a bit, grabbing stuff from the garden rather than the grocery store for meat accessories.

It was a perfect day for barbecuing----hot, hot, hot. Well, maybe it wasn't as hot as it seemed, but considering we were still wearing four layers two weeks ago, it takes some adjusting. Sweat dripped off my brow every time I went out to weed my garden yesterday. Finally, I gave in and cast off the socks. Later, I gave in and cast off the jeans for the first shorts of the year.

Don'tcha love it when you've got to dig deep to find your summer clothes? It's much worse than the transition to winter cuz when you're looking for those winter duds, you don't stink from sweat. On 90-degree days, the more you dig through the piles, the more you sweat. So, when I finally found a pair of shorts I never wear, I dug no further. Just put 'em on and went out to wash the car.

That gave me relief. Grouse Creek and fishing gave Bill his. I'd have gone with him but don't have my license yet. So, I stayed home and took it easy after cleaning the dust off my Obama bumpersticker and bringing the horses up to the barn from the pasture.

I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief while listening to Annie's 7:30 p.m. telephone message saying all went well on Mount Baker. She was on her way back to Seattle. Then, I watched a movie and listened to another sure sign that summer has arrived.

I believe it was Finneyville over across the road who christened the fireworks barrage off South Center Valley Road for 2008. Not really loud stuff, but definitely firecracker variety. I understand, from past experiences here, that we'll be working toward a crescendo in the evening bomb blasts. Around these parts, I'm noticing that some of the grand poopahs of the fireworks crowd are the Taylors and the Meserves. We're in the crossfire between the two.

So, I'm gonna turn my K102.5 up louder for the horses, in hopes that they'll just think the deejays are introducing some new explosive country sounds to the station over the next couple of weeks. So far, the horses haven't really noticed the annual Fourth of July hoopla around here. As long as they have food, they're happy.

It's gonna be noisy and hot here in the Selle Valley, and Bill's outdoor cookin' is gonna be something to sweat for as we endure the heat each day. I don't know how summer could get any better.