Fireworks, parades and picnics.

Well, we just came through another 4th of July with its assorted parades, fireworks, department store sales, final garden plant offerings and, of course, picnics. The latter always makes me think of my father. Although he has been gone thirty years, his love of backyard picnics will live on forever in my memory. He loved nothing more than a yard full of relatives and neighbors gorging themselves on hotdogs, hamburgers, bratwursts.... all cooked over a limestone grill which was a hand-built permanent fixture in his backyard. For those who liked to be less adventuresome, he even kept a spot on the back of the wire where he fixed strips of steak grilled to personal perfection. Yeah, he even wore an apron that said "Official Cook".

You see, my dad loved being a grillmaster, but he loved to eat even more. Probably next to cigarettes, eating was his worst habit. But he sure made it look like a Norman Rockwell painting when, after all other guests were served, he filled up his own plate with a hamburger smothered in fried onions, a couple of bratwursts barely visible beneath a mound of sauerkraut and diced onions, big helpings of baked beans, potato salad, and topped off with a couple of deviled eggs. A tall glass of sweet iced tea completed the picture.

So whenever I go by a yard full of people at a picnic, 4th of July or not, I can't help but reflect back on those days when my yard was that scene. Rose bushes in full bloom, grass mowed to a perfect height to play croquet, two sand pits for pitching horseshoes, a red and yellow swing set full of noisy little cousins, and dad standing by his grill yelling "Come and get 'em while they are fresh". Priceless!!