I’m on deadline this morning, writing an article for the Lewiston Sun Journal.  The piece will run on August 23, I think.  Maybe it runs on August 30.  I had a set Sunday article schedule, but then August had some twists and I’m uncertain.  But I know for sure the piece is about barbecue.

Barbecue.

Although I’ve been scribbling and contemplating barbecue for a few days now, there was no picnic barbecue this weekend and no tailgating at the Lisbon Concerts in the Park.  I took a short trip west looking for sneakers and an antique bureau.  I got the sneakers, but no bureau, no candles, no Woolite.  It was a strange strike out.

But then Handy texted me on Saturday night and asked if I wanted to have dinner at 5:30 p.m.  I wondered if maybe Handy had been slaving away on the grill, making some barbecue, but when I got to his house he and his friend Kurt were waiting for me in Kurt’s 1957 Cadillac.  Big white wall tires, lots of leg room, and a smooth running engine.  We drove down to “Land’s End” on Bailey Island.  It was a cool night and Kurt is an excellent driver.  It felt like we were time tripping.  I only wish I had taken better pictures.

Hot and steamy on Sunday, but there was work to be done in the garden and even though summer is winding down, there are still weeds to be pulled and whacked, perennials to be deadheaded, and tomatoes to be picked.  I ended Sunday with a power walk on the river path next to my house.

It was a weekend full of thoughts and over thinking.  Some ideas for blog posts are percolating, but I never have enough time to fully research and develop them.  Handy says I think too much.  Handy doesn’t have a blog and the need for new content twice a week, though.

Nevertheless, the ’57 Cadillac was righteous and I’ve got no further thoughts about that sweet ride.

“Tearing up the highway like a big old dinosaur.”