Not a phrase often spoken by a woman.
No, it’s the male of the species who is happy to dress-up in an apron with a variety of metal offensive weapons, prepare lumps of raw animal flesh, place them on exceedingly un-hygenic metal spars, put up with a smoky atmosphere, bursts of spitting fat followed by shoulder-high flames, and the aforementioned flesh ending up as solid lumps of carbon. These will then be carried in triumph to a table of nice food, prepared by the female of the species, and plonked in the middle….totally spoiling the lovely colourful effect of vegetables, salad, dips, crisps, rice etc.
Everyone will then be encouraged to devour the blackened lumps and comment to the ‘cook’ (LOL), how wonderful it all is! The consumption of copious amounts of drinks will get rid of the taste, and allow the bright red centre to be consumed before the e-coli can take effect.
The deepening evening will be followed by the increasing number of midges (substitute your own flying pests here), and swiftly the lawn or patio will be cleared, as everyone heads indoors leaving a filthy barbecue, with congealing grease, and half-empty glasses sprinkled about the garden…all to be cleared-up the following morning.
And why do we do it? Must be something to do with the animal instinct ot the caveman genes passed down to us. Anyway, we are going along with this ritual on Saturday night, when the choir members will be coming along for an end-of-season get-together.
The gazebo is up, in case it rains,……so if all the above things happen, I will not blog about it. If, however, the rain stays away, food is prepared and presented to perfection, the midges and e-coli do not appear, and we have a perfect sunset, I will try to get some photos.