Sunday, April 10, 2011

April in the Midwest--Belated

NAPOWRIMO Day 9, Belated

So here's the skinny on my lateness:

Ever wake up, stretch your toes into your sheets, open your bleary eyes, then slowly look out the window and realize it's picnic weather, suddenly, and unannounced? Well, that's what happened yesterday. Picnic weather. Say it with me: picnic weather. *happy sigh*

A couple hours later and we'd spread an entire meal across a picnic bench in the middle of this gorgeous park. Waterfalls, savannahs, cliffs, caves, hidden spring lakes, castle ruins--you name it. Beautiful place. Beautiful day.

And oh, did I mention the frozen chicken?

There are, sadly, several inherent problems with unannounced picnic weather days. Okay, mainly preparation, and mini problems within that umbrella problem.  We had these two gorgeous hunks of bird stashed in the freezer. Massive, delicious hunks of chicken. Perfect for a picnic, right? Grill them up, chow them down.

Yeeeaaah. Except 1.) we were in such a rush we forgot to defrost them before we left, and 2.) The park, as it is so very early in the year, didn't have water hooked up, which is an issue all of its own and only loosely related to raw chicken.

So there we are, in 95 degree weather, 80ish percent humidity, in April, in the Midwest, under full sun, with raw chicken and no water. We had some Gatorade-type drink, and some sodas (I despise soda, unless there's liquor in it!) both of which were gone in a hour, even with rationing. And then, the chicken.

The chicken.

Four--or was it five? shoot, it must have been five--hours later, and we're sitting there--crisped like lobsters, mind you, and faint from the heat and lack of hydration--when we realize we don't give a damn about the chicken any more, and are ready to "Go the -eff- home," end quote. So we do, without eating one bite of the now almost-cooked chicken.

Ahh, well.

Surprise, surprise, the sunburn kicks my butt, and I pass out after drinking about two gallons of water. I woke this morning to a breathtaking dawn, with my soft, "sunburn t-shirt" glued to my angry skin. Totally didn't make it to posting my poem, which is a quickie anyway.

Here's the poem; I appologize I didn't spend more time on it:

April in the Midwest

Ninety-five today
and forty-two tomorrow
tornado weather.

On a side note, we did manage to pull off several fantastic side dishes which we ate hours before leaving. My favorite was the stuffed portabellas. I was a naughty park-goer and snipped a few handfuls of wild onion (they're a weed, anyway), and then layered a thin sliver of butter, then the wild onion, and some sharp cheddar cheese into these baby portabella mushroom caps. Yum! So tasty, even if I think I technically broke park laws to make them...

I shall be posting NAPOWRIMO Day 10 and my TCE story later in the day, but that's all for now; I'm off to the aloe jug.

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