Since last night I have had beef short ribs marinating in the fridge with my special top-secret Korean bulgogi sauce (it comes in a jar at Trader Joe’s). I have wiped down the outdoor chairs, refilled the bird seeders, and swept the patio. To clear the deck for a leisurely Decoration Day weekend evening, I even got up early and wrote 2,000 words on Wikipedia, to be posted later today (the article is marinating in my special top-secret editorial sauce, Extra Time To Think It Over, widely available at better stores everywhere).
For a week we have been planning to sit outside with the rest of the Times late this afternoon while the ribs sizzle on the grill, a picture-perfect model of urban living. But it’s overcast, chilly, and windy. I’m in a sweatshirt and the sky is drab. Early this evening I’ll probably be indoors in a fuzzy robe, trying not to set off the smoke alarm while I lean over the oven broiler. Memo to self: in our next home, the oven broiler has to be above ankle-height. I fear that someday I’ll lean over to flip a steak and not be able to get back up. Who thought up the bottom broiler, anyway–the Borrowers?
So o.k. If winter at the end of May is our biggest problem, we’re fortunate. I will buy a Duraflame log and we’ll put on a fire and pretend it’s February. I’ll even put down Michael Herr for a night and tuck into The Future of Ice, a book on my fall reading list that makes me feel deliciously chilled just looking at its blue spine. Maybe in a week or two my rose bushes will be tricked into a second flush of springtime blooming, always the best in the year.
So o.k., it’s not a great day to go to the open-air market. After my trip to the Y (where on Sundays I consume the Times magazine and book review whilst treadmilling–often laughing out loud when I get to Randy Cohen) it’s off to buy Sandy an external hard drive for her birthday. Shhh! Don’t tell! It’s a secret!