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It was an unseasonably warm weekend here in Boston. So unseasonably warm that A. and I turned off the thermostat and I wore my first t-shirt of the season. For me this is a big deal, as I am pale and don’t twinkle in the sunlight like some loser vampires. I just blind people with my paleness.

A., Gatsby, some friends, and I went for a walk in our neighborhood park, which was all abuzz with people and dogs alike. Gats made friends with a lab, a bichon frise, and a Spuds MacKenzie who I personally wanted to steal and take home with me as he was super cute and friendly.

Walking and breathing in the fresh air aside, the advent of warmth and sunlight means it is grilling time ’round these parts. Up until last May, A. and I had been apartment dwellers with no access to a grill, and as a result, we still get a warm feeling of glee when we drag out our teeny tiny hibachi and pour in the charcoal. We set up our teeny tiny hibachi. Then we tried to light it. For twenty minutes A. stood there with our firestarter. I got hungry and whined. A kind neighbor came over with some dried wood, and the two of them stood over the teeny tiny hibachi for a bit until I heard a cry of success! By then  I was a full beer in and the BBQ wasn’t the only thing getting lit. Thankfully, our burgers cooked quickly, and Gatsby seemed only marginally interested even though our teeny tiny hibachi is at her level. (The neighbor’s daughter was able to distract Gatsby with the lure of the dog treat.)

Dinner, by the way, was delicious and full of charcoal-y goodness. Not so bad for a Sunday evening in the ‘burbs.

May your season of warmth be full of BBQs that are easily lit.

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