Showing posts with label bbq. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bbq. Show all posts

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

Flash fiction - The Escape



The Escape


I’ve noticed some things that happen in England when it gets hot. Everyone gets outside and goes a bit red. People fire up their BBQs and eat overcooked meat. Men start to order drinks with fruit in which they would otherwise balk at. And some people book holidays to Scotland where it’s suitably cool.
I just wanted to get out and get in on the summer action. We’ve all been cooped up during the never ending winter. And then she wanted to make a boiled egg salad! Are you joking? Being boiled? In this heat?

Give me sun and let me fry! 

Click below to be taken to Julia's Place for more 100-word stories using the above picture as a prompt.

Monday, 12 March 2012

Winter has left the building

Spring is here and I, for one, am very excited and happy about it. Mother's Day is around the corner, Easter egg hunts are being planned (or, in London, are already underway) and there are brushes of colour along each pavement. Daffodils have sprouted in the middle of my lawn, crocuses are poking their purple and yellow heads out from all manner of places and the blossom on the trees is getting ready to party. Our heating times have already been shortened, the bbq has been cleaned and the patio furniture is ready.

Yesterday after I had done some gardening, planted some flowers, sowed some seeds and cut the lawn we had our first bbq of 2012. What a heavenly moment: sitting in the garden in the sun, reading the Sunday newspapers with the smell of meat cooking over coals.

Welcome Spring! It reminded me of this poem by Sidney Lanier.

Spring Greeting

All faintly through my soul to-day,
As from a bell that far away
Is tinkled by some frolic fay,
Floateth a lovely chiming.
Thou magic bell, to many a fell
And many a winter-saddened dell
Thy tongue a tale of Spring doth tell,
Too passionate-sweet for rhyming.

Chime out, thou little song of Spring,
Float in the blue skies ravishing.
Thy song-of-life a joy doth bring
That's sweet, albeit fleeting.
Float on the Spring-winds e'en to my home:
And when thou to a rose shalt come
That hath begun to show her bloom,
Say, I send her greeting!