Miracles do happen. I had not one but TWO cocktails last night and I AM NOT HUNGOVER. But I better not push my luck.
Tomorrow we are hosting our annual Fourth of July Blues and BBQ party. BBQ enthusiasts will properly point out that we are grilling, not barbecuing. Yeah, but “grill” isn’t alliterative with Blues and we’re all about the word magic.
If you’re all about the word magic, check out Oxford English Dictionary In Limerick Form. Yeah, it’s wacky. My friend Denise turned me on to it.
Mm yeah, were was I? Oh yeah, Blues! It’s time for the umpteenth annual Waterfront Blues Festival. A bunch of Blues greats and newcomers descend upon Portland and show the people a good time. Lotsa money is raised and canned food is donated for the Oregon Food Bank. It’s win-win all around.
We invite people over to enjoy a level of entertaining based on a genetic memory of multiple generations of invaders dropping in unexpectedly for a nosh. Then we go down enmasse to the Blues Festival. That’s why it’s a Blues and Barbecue party.
I’ve got two pies on the oven: cherry (very American) and blackberry (very Oregon). E has portobellos and and chicken breasts marinading and will be making potato and macaroni salads later. Tomorrow I make my famous Wasabi Deviled Eggs.
Still lots to do: clean up kitchen, pick up rest of house, clean off front porch. But I got silver polished and the garden weeded so it looks pretty spiffy.