Saturday at the Grill

Imagine two beef cutlets, about four inches wide and five and a half inches long. Put them on a very hot grill for about seven minutes, each side.

Now imagine them on the tops of your feet. And there’s no beef. Instead, ‘tis YOUR hide burnt to a crisp, less the grill marks.

That’s my feet. I'll spare you the visual.

Saturday I accompanied my Aggie, two of her friends, my middle daughter, and my 12 year-old to Surfside beach for a Spring Break thingamajig. We brought a grill and some camp cookery equipment, eggs and Jimmy Dean Breakfast Starters. Tortillas, tuna fish and bread, chips, some cookies and a load of water rounded out the supply wagon. Except the tortillas didn’t make it aboard. No worries, we toasted bread on the griddle and topped it with scrambled eggs and sausage onion peppers potatoes mixture. Good stuff.

The wind was light and from the East, not blasting sand into your food as you would expect. The temp was around 70° and the sun was glorious. Salt air, sand, and salt grass filled the air with the scents that are a deep part of me.

Back to the feets. Swollen and red. The kind of sunburn that itches, like when you put shoes and socks on. Yeah, so much fun. The thought crossed my mind to bring some grandpa slippers to work for a little comfort.

My clodhoppers are not quite as distended as they were yesterday, or even this morning. And with my sneakers so loosely tied I nearly qualified as a rapper, my discomfort was minimal throughout the day, considering the doneness of the meat. But the whole thing was kinda worth it.

How? Let’s see: first, all three of my daughters asked me to go to the beach with them, nearly begged me; I got to go to Surfside for the first time this year, and the weather was perfect; I didn’t have to drive; I sat in the sun, threw my cast net, walked with my small one, and ate fresh-cooked breakfast on the beach.

If a little discomfort on my foot cutlets is the price I have to pay, then I think I got off cheap!