It was cool and the trees were still sleeping when I got up and went for a pre-dawn walk. No wind slowed my pace as I went north then east and then south again. No wind pushed me along either.
Bright sun and clear skies made for a “Grilling Day” on this Labor Day Monday. The young son blew in with a suggestion for entree – “Pork Kabobs, please?”
Kathy went into the deep freeze and found a boneless pork roast which would do. The rain of teriaki with a few gusts of garlic, a breeze of ginger, and a bolt of lemon made for the chopped pork’s hurricane marinade.
Some migratory birds were flooding my feeders and gulping water from the bird bath in the backyard. They must sense that the cold north winds are beginning to prepare to invade these parts and thus they flew for the cover of warmer climes.
When I stepped onto the patio the birds dodged into the bushes and trees. It was ten degrees warmer on the south facing patio than the cool closed up house. But heat is relative – just ask some of mine that live in Arizona. They get my present temperatures in December. Birds around here aren’t stupid.
Nicely blackened from the heat, the kabobs of pork, green pepper, onion, and pineapple came in from the grill. Steam came wafting up from the pot of brown rice, raisins and peanuts when I took the lid off and dished up the bed for which the kabobs which would soon disappear and become transformed into nutrients for three weather and bird watchers of blue jay, cardinal, rose breasted gross beaks, nuthatches, and yellow warblers. The food tasted so good that a gale of “wows” and a wave of “satisfaction” fell over the bow of our Labor Day bellies.
Then the weather turned sweet and scrumptious: a delicious cold front of slow churned ice cream butted 
against a delicious warm front of grilled peaches in lemon and cinnamon, with a juicy sprinkle of blueberries and a topping of real maple syrup. (I can hear your galley growling like a big Nor-Easter waiting to be calmed.)
The force of such brilliant, sweet and savory southern Michigan breeze (berries and peaches were from there) caused us to reach for the cup of Caribou to steady us for what manner of weather on the morrow I know not nor do I care to ponder.
STRESSED spelled backwards is DESSERTS. Coincidence? I think not!
