Dawn was arriving, light had filtered its way past the closed curtains through the narrow slit my mismeasured drapery purchase had left between window and wall. The sun always starts peeking directly into that slit around this time of year, early spring. Trees are starting to sprout buds where new leaves would be in a few weeks if not days. I had told the wife all this only last week, she had replied, “spring won’t be here until the Rugby League grand finals”, I of course know better, spring comes when I say so.
The mornings are still cold, I continue sleeping in my “lightweight” thermal vest until that sneaking stream of sunlight finally moves around to meet the edge of the bedside table each August, exact date depending on when I decide I’m brave enough. The bathroom heater is still in use while I attempt my morning toe touch and deep knee bend, the former during the latter. In spite of the cool mornings I’m certain spring is already here, old people with arthritis can tell these things. Confirmation came with a loud heartbreaking argument among the other residents of my castle.
“You only turn the steak once, not more than once and only when the first side is well done” said one voice, the other not waiting until the first finished before ending it with a simple, “I like sausages anyway.” I knew it was coming as the wife walked down the hall toward me, It’s happened before and I dread it each year. Quickly searching for a rational justification for delay I looked up from my dusting as she said, “We want a barbeque tonight.” That’s it, just dropped the bomb and walked away, truth popped into my brain a second after words left my mouth, “We can’t, you didn’t clean the barbeque at the end of last summer.” Yea, that had done it, fixed them all good and proper.
I lifted the dusty metal cover from the barbeque and looked inside, it had been sometime in March since the last ritual burning. The tiny peaked mountains of solidified oil and grease were covered with caps of dust looking for all the world like European alps, the twisted bits of petrified onion, tiny Chalets awaiting skiers, but of course, it’s spring not winter, I’d said so myself. Carefully searching for any reason to abandon this horrible enterprise I examined every nook and cranny of the wheeled man killer, no luck, or none that would fly with the jury. With a silent prayer I looked toward heaven, there it was, my prayer answered, “Looks like rain”, I said with great sadness, “We’ll have to wait for another day”. I hadn’t anticipated her counter move, she must have watched George C. Scott in Patton on TV last night, like the General she was ready. “You can clean it on the grass and I’ll paint it for you, we’ll have steak and sausages for dinner tomorrow night.”
Everyone who knows me knows I hate shopping, with the wife that is. We arrived at the hardware store my list in hand, new volcanic rock for under the grill, a strong cleaner, chemicals are a barbeque must, if you forget to clean it last year, and paint. Don’t you love hardware stores, I actually saved money, didn’t use ink adding to my list, just put stuff straight into the trolley. I picked up a plastic cover for the barbeque since we had decided to move it into a spot not under cover, two great folding chairs, which were on special and some clamps for the light stand I was building for my “photography studio”. I didn’t say anything to the wife but made mental note of quite a few things I can’t do without now that I know they exist, what great places hardware stores are. It turns out I had a good day cleaning the damn thing, and watching the painting get done, It did rain but somewhere west of us.
I hate barbeques because: sounds like a school assignment. Standing over a smoking hot plate, getting splattered with popping oil is not a good time, very un-Australian I know, but that’s how it is, messy, Smokey, usually hot and the clean up! And I have to do the preparation to boot, here we go again, another Australian summer, guess what, I don’t drink, it’s going to be a long hot one.
This morning I looked with pride at the “new” barbeque, the cover made it look great in its new spot on the edge of the patio. I quickly pushed the ideas for improvements in our outdoor living area which flashed into brain, to the back of my mind, I can’t have everything at once since she says she too busy to do them all.
The supermarket trip today was a voyage of discovery, not only did the wife stay home, I set out to turn the family into gourmet barbeque lovers, intending to bypass the usual plain steak and sausages with burnt baby potatoes and onions, going for the unusual. I looked at the Italian and German sausages, various spices and herb mixtures along with meat cuts other than the “mixed grill” special of chops, steaks and cutlets. They had protested that they wanted a real “Aussie Barbie” none of this fancy “Shrimp on the Barbie Paul Hogan stuff” I discovered “Real Aussie” for them, it was right there in the meat cabinet.
Kangaroo has been on the Aussie barbeque menu for centuries, Europeans just didn’t know where to find it until recently. In my supermarket it’s next to the chicken, just before the lamb. Now, being health conscious I read the labels. “Approved by the Heart Foundation, 98% Fat Free, High in Iron,” and other stuff in small print, always forget to take the reading glasses. Kangaroo sounded great, and wasn’t badly priced, steak was $15.99, sausages $7.85 and mince $7.79 a kilo, good value, in fact a lot cheaper than other carnivorous fair, didn’t check it against pet food, us old guys have that to look forward to on our pensions.I already know I love Australia’s spring and summer, I might just grow to like the great Aussie barbeque as well, Can’t wait to see their faces at tonight’s feast.
JAWhite
August 2010 Return to main page
Spring and Painting Photo: JAWhite
Good Food Photo: Gourmet Game
