Kiss the Cook

When we first moved into our house in 2007, one of the first items that didn’t make the cut was our $30 charcoal grill that Jason quite enjoyed when he was unemployed and we were living in an apartment near Baltimore. I’d come home from work to find him reclining out on the balcony in one of our hideous blue camping chairs, the grill smoking beside him, the dogs looking plump and happy. He’d mainly grill hot dogs and the occasional hamburger and would always share with the pups, but we eventually got a “cease and desist” letter from management informing us that it was a fire hazard. And thus, Jason’s apartment grilling days came to an end.

The first place I checked when we moved into our house was Freecycle, a service that helped me learn the concept that “free” things usually don’t come for free, per se. Basically, users post messages with items that they are either giving away for free or are in search of. I did a quick search for “grill” and found a woman giving away a free grill just 20 minutes away. We were thrilled. We had so much to spend money on the interior of our house, it was hard to justify spending hundreds on a nice grill at the time.

I grabbed the directions and we set off. When we pulled up to the house, I was impressed. It was huge, the kind of household that would have a really nice grill to give away. I rang the doorbell. A man in a business suit with a loosened tie answered the door and I said, “Hi, I’m here from Freecycle to pick up your grill.” The man stared at me. I stared back at him. It didn’t seem that my message was registering. The man excused himself and called for his wife. They spoke briefly. The man returned to the door and informed me that no, they had not posted anything online giving their grill away. I walked away sheepishly and realized I had the wrong address.

Fast forward 5 minutes and we arrive at the correct house, a much less… impressive establishment. A man wearing cutoff shorts and a stained t-shirt was working on his car outside. He called for his wife, a plump woman who dragged a charred and rusty relic behind her on squeaky wheels, the off-brand nameplate hanging from one screw. We managed to squeeze the grill into our trunk and it remained in our backyard, an eyesore among eyesores, until now.

We actually grill quite a bit—usually more than once a week during the summer, and have friends over for cookouts about once a month. And no, we didn’t bother buying new grates for the thing or even sterilizing it once we got it home. Really gross. We decided, after three years, it was time for a new grill. Thanks to the generosity of some family friends who gave us a belated housewarming gift towards the purchase of a new grill, we set off to find a new outdoor cooking machine.

After scouring grill reviews online for weeks, we finally settled on this beast of a machine, the Master Forge Four-Burner Split-Lid Gas Grill, on sale for $299 at Lowes.

With 60,000 BTUs, a split lid, a side burner and a separate sear burner, and cute little perks like an attached bottle opener and condiment shelves, it’s perfect for us. Hopefully, this should be around for years to come. We’ll be christening it this Sunday, when we’ll be cooking for friends.

Now I just need to get around to posting about our old grill on Freecycle so I can pass it on to another couple of suckers.

Scooters See Daylight Again

The scooters have been released into the wild after suffering a winter of cobwebs and dust in the barn. Mine took a little bit of convincing, but they eventually started up and helped us out on our second geocaching adventure (the one where we got stopped by the very nice policeman). As you can see, the scooters had a little exhaust problem after not getting any attention for a few months, but it seems they’re healthy again.

It feels really nice to ride around town again in style.

(Photo taken by Jason, ‘shopped by me)

Touché

Jason used a pair of scissors the other night. When he was done with the scissors, he set them on the kitchen counter and forgot about them. The next night, before we went to sleep, I left him this note to find in the morning, along with the misplaced scissors.

When I woke up the next morning, the scissors were put back in their drawer and I found this response.

In case the message isn’t clear, Jason’s referring to the collections of glasses I leave strewn about the house, which have been known to serve as petri dishes if they’re left for too long. He definitely has a point.

Plants I Haven’t Killed Yet

It’s only a matter of time. But I can stave off their death for a while by using Aqua Globes, the best invention since the Roomba. Seriously, this takes 80% of plant care out of my hands, which is really best for everyone involved.

59 South Carroll Street

As Jason and I were driving home from dinner last night, we noticed a large plume of smoke moving quickly over the downtown Frederick area. My first thought, of course, was smoke monster, but that’s because I’m still not cured of my LOST-brain. We followed the smoke until we arrived at the scene. Several streets were completely blocked off. We parked the car and began walking. Then we realized that everyone in downtown Frederick had the same idea and the massive crowds became more a spectacle than the actual fire.

The fire, which completely destroyed The General Engineering Company building, a beautiful old thing that was used as a warehouse during the Civil War, took six hours and 25 fire companies to extinguish. The source? The Gazette reports it was the result of a malfunctioning refrigerator. Even though Jason had pretty important business to attend to today, we hung around with the crowds for about an hour an a half to watch the flames eat away at the roof of the building. Luckily, no one was in the building at the time of the fire, and there were no injuries.

I didn’t have my camera with me, so I snapped some iPhone pics. I wish I had taken a picture of the crowd on Carroll creek, everyone out with their dogs and cameras and neighbors to mill around and vie for the best spot. The whole event somehow sparked a giant downtown block party that was surprisingly un-somber.

We started out on East St., and we made our way over to the Carroll St. bridge right in front of the Delaplaine. But not before spotting these two young lovers taking in the fire from afar. Romantic.

We made it to the bridge, then pushed our way to the front.

When everyone was forced off of the bridge, we managed to secure a spot behind the building, where we watched a portion of the roof cave in as it started to get dark out.

It was all very fascinating; I had never seen such an extreme fire in such an intimate setting, and I was amazed by the tenacity of those flames. Without getting overly profound, I’ll just say it was sad and beautiful. I hate to see a historical building go.