Officially on vacation, being that duties ended this morning. It was partially to celebrate end-of-year freedom and also to commemorate another birthday that Wayne opened his house and his gas BBQ to us.
No clear summer skies for us, this was a burn-your-own-food occasion held under tropical monsoon conditions. But the weather couldn't dampen our spirits tonight. Unlike charcoal, propane cooks meat fast, keeping the flow of carnage constant. Major plus point there.
No more with our thoughts on work, conversation was mindless and easy. In general, there was the very fluid cluster around the BBQ as we took turns to burn something through the night; the mature cluster that engaged in polite, nostalgic conversation while they waited for compatible "spirits" to arrive; the TV cluster hooked on the evening serial; the butterflies that fluttered just about everywhere (as usual); and then there was the Dog who himself commanded lots of adoring attention. Turns out that lots of us are dog people so there was no shortage of hands to keep him happy all night.
Be that as it may, the Dog was also the victim of a love unrequited. His amorous advances were politely but firmly rebuffed by his one object of affection. Nothing personal, but the differences between them were irreconcilable: he was canis domesticus, she was homo sapiens. He was an old dog in winter, she a spring chicken. It would never have worked out.