Toastmasters Barbecue. Grammarian's word of the day was "scorching"

20240715

Our Toastmasters BBQ Saturday came off without a hitch.  We had about twenty-five attend our meeting.  Several members brought spouses and boyfriend/girlfriends.  I'm old-fashioned – I like that usage better than "partners".  It still has a ring of innocence.  It doesn't imply "sleeping together" but it does imply heterosexuality.

But that's not all!  Eddie's friend Artem visited with sister Natasha.  Canadian friend Alexandra, husband Zhennia and kids Mirabela and Celestina joined us.  Well over thirty all told.  I was happy to note that there was ample space for five cars to park. 

The temperature hit 35°C.  That's 95°F, close to a record.  Alarmists blame it on global warming, climatologists lean towards the El Niño and the massive addition of water vapor from the Hunga Tonga volcano eruption.  We coped by using the back porch as a stage, seating the audience in the shadow of the house.  They had to shift clockwise as the shade moved over the course of our two-hour meeting.  Our grammarian had chosen "scorching" as the word of the day.  Though it was surely in the 90s even in the shade, it was not too humid, and the breeze made it bearable.

By mid-afternoon the cherry-plum tree provided enough shade for our four café tables.  We moved chairs out to the lawn and gradually the party migrated from the kitchen to the out-of-doors.  Hot though it was, the trees provided some relief, and a pleasant breeze came up. 

The kids, as usual, ran around on the lawn. It had me reflecting on lawns in my life.  This one, about 40x50' not counting the strips down both sides of the house, is the biggest I have ever had.  Why that should be came to mind. In the Bay Area, where I grew up, and Washington D.C. where I raised my first family, the better parts of town are in the hills. Lovely for views, but not for big, flat lawns to play on.  Racking my brain, I could not even remember friends or neighbors who had better lawns for kids.  Our guys are lucky.

We had barbecued the sausages, spareribs and mackerel in advance, keeping it warm in the oven.  We were lucky that the power was scheduled to be on from 7:00 until 12:00, doubly lucky that it stayed on until almost 2:00.  After the meeting we fired up the second grill to prepare the pièce de résistance, 4 kg of Grandma's shashlik. 

We had the quantities about right.  Today, Monday, we have about three pieces of meat left in the icebox and with the remaining potato salad and tabbouli in small bowls.  Only thing of which there was not enough was drinks.  We collected apples from the back yard to make a couple of gallons of compote, but it was all gone by the time I lifted the lid to take a glass.  Tastes are changing.  We have five bottles of left-over wine and ten cans of beer that the guest brought, but the bottled water, soft drinks and kombucha ran out quickly.

Toastmasters' membership turns over fairly rapidly.  Though our club is blessed to have a handful of members who have been around for more than five years, average tenure is a little over one.  Most of the attendees were at our house for the first time.  It was a good opportunity to get to know them.  And for them to get to know Oksana.

I had been taking all three kids to the meetings for about a month, but many had never met their mother.  Oksana is a very social person, delighted with the conversation.  When, as the affair wound down, somebody suggested we should do it again, Oksana said "next month."  Maybe we will.

I was surprised that so many guests accepted the suggestion that they bring swim attire.  Zoriana led about ten of them down to our new favorite beach on the 24^th line.  The homeowners there put a couple of truckloads of sand behind a low embankment to make a proper beach.  They were there for an hour.  Zoriana loves to flirt with the men in the club, and they don't mind when she climbs on them and asks to be tossed in the air.  Marianna of course, buoyed by her water wings, was surely in the midst of it all.

I had been planning a piece on how all the wheels were coming off the American bus.  Monetary policy, deep state corruption, inflation, vaccine mandates, the collapse of education, etc. etc.  The Trump shooting trumps them all.  I've exchanged mail with a couple of ardent Democrats whose sentiments align with the "shooting lessons" quip from Bennie Thompson's aide.  These are dangerous times.  Glad to be far away, and happy to stick with my self-appointed mission of raising honest, responsible and capable children.

Graham