Summertime

Allow me to set the scene.

It's late afternoon on a Saturday. A few people are over listening to the ballgame. The grill is firing up some freshly charred goodness, to be placed between a bun.

Ah, summer. What a glorious time of year.

If only the weather weren't so much like mid-spring. Come on. It's 65 degrees and mostly cloudy.

But this is the Northwest, so I guess people get used to it. (This is, of course, not to say that it never gets that way - it's been plenty hot, but not consistently for days on end.)

But why am I complaining? I'm a New Yorker, so to me, "summer" translates to "100 degrees, 100 percent humidity, the 3 o'clock thunderstorm, and enough ruined shirts to last a lifetime."

I guess I could do without it. Yeah, I could.

Bring on the burgers, and get outside!