Spring is nearly here and you KNOW what that means!

BAR-B-Q TIME!!

Get out the sweet breads, the pickled hooves, the hanging game, the gizzards and tails.

And grizzle them up on your outdoor Barbie!

Down here in sunny Floride, we never stop cooking outside, but you folks in Steamboat and Sugarloaf are hankering for mud season and a few last runs in slush spring mashed potato conditions, right?

Bet cuz those last of the season runs serve to remind you to "GET OUT THE BARBIE!!"

So in celebration of that expectation, I shot ya some pix Sunday last, reminding you how NOT to do it.

I'm pretty darned experienced on the Weber and hardly serve anything cold in the middle anymore, but we all get rusty and so we all make mistakes.

Yeah, even in Florida, we forget to not clean the grill when it's still torturously hot (here seen vulcanizing my right hand to the wire grate cleaner and my left to the Weber. Hey, where'd it say "Caution, may be hot" on this thing? When I can use my writin' hand again, I'm gonna see if one of those accidente abrogates on the billboards can handle my case).

I was so irked and heated when my dang little bird dog started laughin' at me flying around the back yard almost a-flame and dancin' the St Vitus.

Here using the Old Biscuit Trick.

Now who's laughin', tenderfoot?

Plus, it took care of all that hair between his toes where the burrs get stuck when he's runnin'  the quail. Speaking of which, season is coming up. Couldn't care less about the geese, but the quail ought to be a layin' like mad.

Puff Puff

Some people like to say there's not enough of a story behind some of my pictures...

I think that it's just cuz they don't have a large enough imagination.

Like I was on my way from Virginia to Maine recently and heard about this insane gunman in the act of killing off a bunch of children real close by to where I was on 95 North, so I spun off the road and went the 8 miles or so, following the choppers, to the Nickel Mines school house.Flashed my press creds and drove into the little amish village, which ordinarily would have been siesta-ing in the warm mid day sunshine. Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam Bam for each life therein. And the Amish community reported they held no animosity towards the truck driver that snapped? Here's a neighbor who's now got 23 satellite RV's parked next to his buggy on the front lawn:

Maybe the best way to defuse the scene is to act if nothing's happening? But I can see something in this cat's face that doesn't look "settled" or peaceful, like he's wrestling with an emotional bear....

You gotta look to

see.

Check out my site as it almost always has some new stuff on it that might make you wanna look.