There is something cathartic about being elbow to elbow with your nearest and dearest and tucking into a big old sticky finger mess of Barbeque. The rest of the world seems to drift away, like a lens blur where, you know deep in your heart that Monday is always going to come but (thankfully) that concept is masked by the smoky sweet haze of grill smoke. That, some of the previous week’s seemingly insurmountable problems are temporarily replaced by twilight chuckles and the clank of passing plates. Where hands are held and memories made, where the fight for the last piece of corn or the sloppy dribble of Mop sauce is more important than what happens on your Twitter feed. Where the sticky sweet remnants of the 4 giant pieces of watermelon that your kids housed while you were busy laughing at stories you have heard a thousand times makes the weekly laundry grind almost palatable.
Slow moving fireflies in the sultry summer air, the echoing sounds of laughter coming from the adults lazily digesting at the table and the fattening feeling of being happily satiated with tender food and wonderful moments. It is quintessential summer. It is nights like these that I remember best from growing up. Those which made childhood so sweet, and that we now have the honor of being tasked with creating for our boys.
And for all that to happen you need some stinkin’ good sauce. Sauce made with love. Sauce that is SO good you want to share it. Sauce that makes your taste buds shout a resounding HELL YES! from deep within and leaves you wanting more.
So here ya go… 3 from my arsenal. A little sumpt’in for everyone. Because summer memories need to be made, and we should all be spending less time searching and more time relishing the humble and happy feeling of being surrounded by those we love.
Tobacco Leaf Cocktail Napkins, Monogrammed Pink Napkins, Pewter Pig Carving Board (similar), Pink Lanterns, Pink Melamine Dinner Plates (similar), Tin Tobacco Leaf Plates, Blue edged Deco Salad Plate, Corn Dishes, Galvanized Buckets (I got mine from The Christmas Tree Shops but here are similar if you need an online option), Ball Jars, Dressing Jar
Sultry… that’s the sexy way to say HOT AF. And you know that I don’t mean hot as in “man of the year” hot, or hot like “50 shades of Greige” hot… I’m talking the kind of hot where you can feel beads of sweat slowly sneaking their way down your temple and dripping into your cleavage only to puddle in the most inopportune place as to say… “Why yes, my boobs DO end HERE” (much lower than they used to). Or, shirt soaking hot that whispers “Certainly! I would be HAPPY to share the fact that I still have that stupid tattoo on my back that I got in college” … for the record, it seemed like an AWESOME idea at the time, and YES, I will publicly go on record to confirm that my Mother WAS correct, I WOULD come to regret it one day.
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