It’s A Muggy Cicada Sunday Morning Coffee Muses
The cicadas are singing this morning. Summer must really be hear (pun intended). I started noticing the continuous buzz yesterday while tending the smoker. But, when it’s warm and muggy enough for them to make it sound like the summer afternoons of my youth in unairconditioned Texas, calendar be damned, it’s summer.
I pulled the briskets off the smoker last evening just before full dark. They were wrapped in foil, yes, the Texas crutch. Then I put them in a low oven to hold overnight. I was going to fire up the smoker this morning but it’s just to hot to sit out and watch the fire. So I think I’ll just crank up the oven and finish them in comfort. Here’s what they looked like about halfway through yesterday’s smoke…
I swear I can hear bluebird babies fussing from here as mom and dad make trip after trip with fresh bugs to fill the gaping mouths that never seem to get full.
Time to go fix breakfast so we can get this show on the road…
2pm – Meats done…
It’s a little drizzly here — I hope the weather doesn’t affect your holiday negatively. I heard cicadas for the first time yesterday, over at the Varner-Hogg plantation, which is your neck of the woods, more or less. I’d say summer’s here. If it means the wind finally lays, it’s fine by me.
I’ve been watching the forecast all week… Luckily, I’m not a purest. Eight to ten hours on smoke is plenty. The grandkids can enjoy splashing in the water in the heat… I’ll stay in the AC and enjoy the meat…