But that certainly didn't stop us from having a wonderful time.
My husband took the kids fishing, which gave my brother and me a rare afternoon alone. We cooked.
The menu was one of off-the-wall excess. Exactly what I complain about in the previous post.
We made beef ribs in homemade barbeque sauce. Two racks of baby back pork ribs. Homemade cole slaw. Homemade baked beans. Cornbread. Corn on the cob.
We mixed and marinated and basted. The beef ribs were braised in a slow oven for a few hours before we threw them on the grill for the final step. The pork ribs were so incredibly lean and tender we ate them rare.
Jake showed up with a couple of iced coffees. We talked about stuff. We joked around. The weather turned to rain just as we were ready to sit and eat this huge feast. The kids and husband pitched up and we laid all the meat on a groaning table, side dishes dotting the table wherever they could fit.
We gave thanks, oh Lord, for the bounty of this table. May it remind us, always, of your abundant love.
And then we ate.
No fireworks. Round bellies and good company.