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As I eyed the menacing clouds banking up on the Southern horizon, I dragged ‘Old Faithful' from amongst the other clutter that always seemed to be blocking the over-head door of my shop. ‘Old Faithful' who used to be-ten or so years ago--a black and shiny, state-of-the-art barbecue grill is now reduced to a rusting, semi-gloss, off-black, dinosaur with three flat wheels and one missing. By placing a round pipe under the end with the missing wheel, I manage to roll her out to our picnic area by the swimming pool. And, if you haven't figured it out already, I'm making preparations for the yearly sacrifice to the ‘God of Labor'. "Sorry, God, just a little pun there-no blasphemy intended." I guiltily glance up at the clouds again, praying lightning doesn't strike me right at this moment.
I don't mean to sound as though I don't enjoy our last chance of the year to get the whole family together (including my loveable Son-in-Law) for one last celebration of a long and glorious summer-Labor Day. Created by man, blessed by God, a day that gives the ‘working class' one more long fabulous weekend off work. I'm not sure who came up with the idea to give the working man a day of celebration; but I for one (being the red-blooded American that I am) will take any day off work that I can get-and thank God (and President Cleveland) that it's a day off with pay! No more perfect way to end the summer.
Taking a wire brush I scrub the grill racks clean of last year's burned debris; then I spray it with cleaner just to make sure it's sanitized. Not that the flames wouldn't kill any germs lingering there; I just feel better when I'm sure my son-in-law can't blame my cooking for the belly aches that are sure to develop after consuming two cheeseburgers and three hotdogs-not to mention all the sides he is sure to pile on a tray-sized plate.
Actually, I truly love this holiday. It is still warm enough for the kids to swim, play volleyball, and the men's all time favorite-horseshoes. And yet it's cool enough to sit outside and enjoy a fabulous cookout. I guess the ladies' favorite thing about a cookout is the fact that their kitchen doesn't get trashed, they have no dirty dishes to wash, and the men do most of the cooking! My nephew makes a potato salad to die for and my son can make baked beans that dreams are made of. Although, the grill may be old, it still cooks a mean burger and a mouth-watering steak. We have splurged however, and bought Grannie an all electric homemade ice cream maker--feeling a little sorry for her last year as she sweated over the hand-crank of her old-style maker as we all sat and cheered her on. She has that magic touch when it comes to making ice cream and we wouldn't dream of taking that privilege away from her.
The grill is smoking, the crowd is arriving and the smell of good food and laughter fills the backyard. Kids are lining up at the slide to whiz down into the crystal clear water of the swimming pool. Metal on metal clangs as a cheer goes up from the crowd of men around a horseshoe post as the men on the other end groan and kick the dust in true competition fashion. A volleyball team begins to form as enough ladies arrive to make it a full house.
I flip the burgers and remove the hotdogs from the rack above as I glance over the top of the grill and track the ever-growing billow of darkening clouds in the south. I see the blurry streaks of rain as it sweeps down in one long curtain beneath the thunderheads.
And my heart sinks as I picture our perfect Labor Day cookout turning into a drowning fiasco. So far we are still in the sun, but the clouds are moving so slowly, I can't tell which way they are going. If it will just hold off a few minutes longer. I keep praying for sunshine-just this one day, please.
Placing cheese on all the burgers, I begin to scoop them up and place them on a large platter. My tummy rumbles as the smell of food wafts upward into my nostrils.
"Come and Get It, You Guys!!!" I don't know about anyone else, but I'm ready to dive in. What makes food cooked outside taste so doggone good??
I look one more time to the South to see the rain clouds that have been haunting my vision the whole morning and I'm shocked to see they have split and gone around us on each side. We are still in our sunny world of unrequited content. Our Labor Day cookout has been saved by-who knows? Offering up a little prayer of thanks, I scurry away to get in line at the table and grab my tray-size plate to overload with goodies.
And one more Labor Day goes down in printable memories of pictures to fill another album and hold in our hearts and minds as we joyfully watch each new family member join the long procession of celebrants of another year gone by.
I wish everyone, everywhere a safe and joyful Labor Day Weekend.
Sandra E. Graham, author, AMOS JAKEY and NICOLINA, published by American Book Publishing. I also write reviews for authors. Check out my website for more info on my writing and reviews: http://www.sandragraham-articles-books.com
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