It's getting on the end of summer soon, and the weather is still hot, but the bite of the humidly hot days is easing, allowing the residents of this city to enjoy pleasant evenings, spent on patios and decks.
Etienne and I are fortunate to live in a very nice, rather large apartment on a mostly-quiet section of a very loud street. One of the perks of this apartment is that it has a good-sized patio deck at the back, off our bedroom. This summer, we purchased a small, portable charcoal grill which has allowed some variation in our rather stale diets.
Since Etienne's a vegetarian, it falls on me to do the grilling, and so on a pleasant evening with the sun setting earlier and earlier these days, I have the privilege of carefully managing the cooking of two dijon-rubbed chicken breasts, one fat, juicy meat hamburger, and one decidedly lifeless-looking little gluten-free veggie pattie.
The cats usually make a run for the patio as soon as there is a hint of opening the door, but for some reason, tonight there's hesitation. It takes a while, but Princess Purrball finally makes her way out, and settles as far away from the door as she is allowed to, given that there are stairs going up and down that the cats are not permitted to traverse.
The coals are nice and hot, with some flames still dancing about, the meat and faux-meat are cooking nicely, and the evening air is warm, but fresh. All this picture lacks is a nice, cold Stella or Czechvar.
...Wish you were here.
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