Are you confused yet?
I like the word "supper". It feels like home to me. It took me years to call the night time meal "dinner". And the noon time meal "lunch". I still prefer "lunch" at noon. But, gosh, "supper" just feels like the end of the day, when you can take off your shoes, undo your bra, and get comfortable. Or is that Undo you Shoes and Take Off your bra. But maybe you are a man and don't wear a bra. What do you do at the end of the day? I know what most men do. They scratch. They do. I've seen them. Not necessarily the man I am married too....and not necessarily at the end of the day. Like when I was at the Eastern Idaho State Fair a few days ago. Men scratch all day long when they are at the Fair..... How did I get so far off the topic?????
So, I am regressing. Let's get back on topic.
For Labor Day we did the BBQ over the Briquettes. (The propane grill is still down South, so we had to do it the old fashioned way). Yep. We had to light the Briquettes and wait. Wait. Wait. That part is so hard.
My DH pulled the Weber out of the garage and parked the thing right in front of the front door. Don't ask me why. He also took my little table that I use to paint stuff on, and parked it right in front of the front door. We have a wonderful deck out back. But I guess that seemed to logical to use. He must have wanted all the neighbors (to the side of us) to smell what he was cooking.
*The Motor Home belongs to my crazy neighbor Norman. Someday I will tell you more about that dude.
This recipe is from The Pioneer Woman's Cookbook. And we love it. The yellow squash was legitimately purchased from a grocery store. But the zucchini....that was stolen from our neighbor Norman's garden. Yep.
We thought we were so sneaky. When we finished picking corn earlier in the day, we drove right past the garden that Connie (Norman's wife) had taken me to. I wouldn't have been able to find that garden in a million years if someone would have asked me, "where is Connie and Norman's garden?" But, there it was, on the same road we had to drive to go and pick corn. That is when V lost control of our truck and it just pulled off to the side of the road. Well, since we were there, V just helped himself to a zucchini. Who would know? So that is the zucchini you see on the grill. Don't tell Norman OK. I am not sure how he would take it, knowing we had raided his garden. He would give us the shirt off his back, but I don't know how he feels about his zucchini.
V grilled a bunch of other stuff. Onions, red peppers, green peppers, and stuff like that.
And of course V grilled the freshly picked and husked corn on the cob. Doesn't that look divine? You should smell it. There is nothing that smells like roasted corn over briquettes. Your mouth just waters. Your neighbors start peeking around their garages. Cars slow down if they are within 1000 feet of the hot coals. The air is laden with the aroma......you get the idea, right? It smells so good!
While V was outside grilling, I should put away all the dishes that someone else had washed. This canning and freezing corn all day sure made a mess. And now it's time to feed the troops. I should have some clean horizontal surface somewhere. But my knee was 'a pain'en me somethin' terrible.... so I sat on my bottom and didn't do it. Some days are just like that. Dang Aurthur Itis. And Bad Knees.
I just so happen to have a daughter from California, who has made this recipe before, staying with me. She took over. What more could a mother ask for? (Well, if someone would just put the clean dishes away....that would be a start.) So this daughter, she just got in there and started to cut up all those grilled veggies. She sliced and diced. She removed the kernels of corn from the cob. She chopped.
This is the same daughter who gave birth 10 weeks ago. The one I was visiting in Sandy Eggo . Yep. Her. She is the one. All I can say is "It is payback time". I love it! And she is really good at this. I think my knee won't get better for several days..... just say'n.
Then there is this guy. He just amazes me. He works long hours. He fixes his own meals (since we don't live together anymore....) He loads our cargo trailer by himself. He drives straight to me, in 15 hours. He is willing to unload the trailer with his little girls help. He cooks for his family. He never ceases to amaze me. He is the most wonderful perfectly wonderful man I know. He would never think of sitting on the couch watching the tube. He would never leave me to go play some "man game" like golf, which he enjoys very much. He never puts himself first. He ALWAYS puts his family first. He stands in the front yard and cooks for us. He watches food being prepared. He helps in every way! Picks the corn, cooks the corn,.... he is just like the Little Red Hen, only a bazillion times better. (If you look at the fridge...the paper on the left side....well that is a love note he mailed to me. The paper on the right side is the grocery list... I like the paper on the left very very much! All the other stuff are magnets our sweet baby girl added.)
This guy I am married to, even knows what we will do with the corn cobs, which he grilled. Earlier today, in all of his spare time, he built me a compost. You know the thing that is magic. If you put scraps of food in it and close the lid and wait a few months, dirt comes out the bottom....yeah, he built me one earlier in the day. Because the soil where we live is CLAY. It is awful. Water won't even go in it. Grass can hardly grow. So, we want to raise a garden and have good soil, so he built me a compost, so we will have good dirt to add to our bad dirt, and we will have more good dirt so we can grow food next summer, in the garden we are going to plant. And the scraps of food from the garden will go back into the compost and we will make more good dirt. It is cycle thing that people in these parts do. People do it all the time here. People do it in Surprise, Arizona, too. The people in Surprise, Arizona helped me to tell this guy I love which one to get. Things like this just seem to go around and around and around. And then you get good dirt. To help you grow good food. So you can have scraps and put in the compost and wait until it turns into good dirt.
Isn't that amazing?
Hello.
Are you still with me.?
Gosh, I am rambling. My high school English teacher has failed miserably with teaching me complete and proper sentence structure. But, that is how we all talk now, so why not type that way. ? ? ? Hello?
The chopping continued a while. And V went back outside, through the front door, and put the hamburger patties on the grill. We are almost ready to eat.
I promise we are getting close. The grilled and chopped veggies are disappearing into a very large bowl. The dressing is made. It is just about ready.
So, I am putting away my camera. Getting up and putting away dishes. And getting out all the hamburger stuff....mustard, pickles, catsup, miracle whip, cheese, sliced avocado. I buttered the buns and gave them to V to grill slightly so they would be toasted for our hamburgers. I got the potato chips out and opened. The salad is now ready. Napkins. Drinks for everyone. Silverware.
We have had the most wonderful Labor Day. We miss the rest of our family who isn't able to be with us. We miss them Terribly, ! Terribly!
Fold your arms. It is time to pray. It is time to give thanks.
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