It all starts with fire
We were invited to a friend's birthday BBQ up at Silky Oak picnic area on Mount Cootha yesterday and despite the confused weather (rainclouds looming as we left the apartment, bright sunshine at the picnic area and then rainclouds moving in), it was really good.
The SO and I need to avoid arriving on time to parties, cuz everyone else started arriving past 12pm for the 11am start. But as early birds, we got to get first dibs on the yummy cheesey cobbler. Can't complain there. (^_^)v
By the way, what's with guys and BBQs?
The minute the birthday boy announced he was going to get the fire started, every person in possession of a penis swarmed to the pit, like it was the pipe piper of Hamelin. Leaving the women at the benches to roll their eyes and get on with more important things, like set out the salads and chit-chat.
And even after the meat had been cooked (silly things cooked the meat before the veggie burger, so it got sausage and steak juices), they still poked the fire and shoved other bits in for its consumption. It's got to be a throwback to caveman days or something.
I am really sucking at social events and found myself simply listening to the conversations about renovations, car repairs and tech lingo around me. So awkward in fact, that I cut up tiny pieces of cooked sausage to throw up to the kookaburras sitting up in the trees.
Except everyone stopped their conversations to watch me play circus performer. /(._.)\Hey, it ain't easy getting a bird's attention from 5 metres below it.