Vonnie, son Rick,and Mom (Frances) as they try to figure out how to get the new grill going. Reading the directions helped immensely!
We pulled up to the house just a tad past 1 p.m., which I thought was fashionably late for a cookout that was to begin at 1. It was odd that we were the first to arrive, though, and I got a little nervous.
I brought the crockpot of chili into the house and we were greeted with, “I don’t have anything ready! Can you help?!”
Turns out the hostess had a bit of a chaos problem going: No grill for the burgers, brats and chicken; the sweet corn was still in its cellophane wrapper; one guest was unable to attend; and the list went on.
We were called to look out the back door, and as we stared in shock at the shiny, big, fancy new grill, my aunt turned and said, “I thought we were going to borrow a grill. Oh my gosh!”
And that started a whole new bag of challenges. The manual had to be read, the temperature system had to be learned (the heat once registered at 700 degrees, a wee bit hot for what we were cooking), and perhaps most important, someone needed to volunteer as cook.
I insisted that the men played chef at all the other cookouts, but that observation went unheeded. I wasn’t about to do it, so the rest of the women kept stepping back until my poor sister-in-law was left standing closest to the grill. As I saw flames jump up through the black slats and visions of the movie Backdraft came to mind, I was thankful I was a chicken.
Lisa did a great job; so good in fact that she’ll probably be elected again next time.
Since the party was a little late getting started, some folks got hungry and found ways to quietly pry open the potato chip bags. Yes, Joyce, I’m talking about you and I’d love to know how you did that without the rest of us noticing you.
I don’t think I’ve seen a more perfect day for a family gathering. The ground was covered with crunchy leaves, kids played disc golf, basketball, football and kick-the-pumpkin (until the little guy’s dad put a stop to it), but it wasn’t just the weather. Any time a big family can come together for something other than a funeral it’s a wonderful thing.
Some gathered around the outside patio table, others stood in the kitchen, a few watched the football game in the living room and the rest sat at the dining room table. Kids wandered in and out, nibbling on burgers and macaroni and cheese, then moved on to cake and ice cream. Adults sipped coffee and enjoyed slices of banana cream pie while catching up with one another’s lives.
Gosh, it was a good time.
I have to give her credit. Our aunt may have felt she had no control over the seemingly unending challenges thrown her way on Sunday afternoon but she needn’t have worried. As we talked and ate, laughed and reminisced, the earlier chaos was quickly forgotten and replaced with hugs and smiles and contentment.
I just hope the one who was sitting closest to the refrigerator has recovered from her near-beaning by a big box of Eggo Waffles. You can bet we’ll bring that up at the next cookout.
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