Line Squalls

All day, an hour or two between them, intense rain cells moving through. The sound and smell are wonderful, occasional distant thunder, the wind in new leaves, the smell of green mixed with the fecund rotting duff. I should have at least cleaned the house a little. Jacob is going to sleep-over tomorrow, after yard work and dinner, but I listened and sniffed and read. I made a sinful sandwich today. The other day those little, expensive, tenderloin steaks, wrapped in bacon, in their cute little plastic containers, were on sale, and I grabbed a couple. I grilled one, with a nice butter / mushroom sauce, and a single serving of Potatoes Diane that I did in the toaster oven. I didn't mold it, just prepared it in a ramekin. This was a very good meal, something else, right, a nice horseradish coleslaw. Then today, I was up early, listening to the rain, I had a couple of basted eggs on toast with coffee, maybe 6 o'clock, then just read and thought and vegetated for eight hours, and was hungry again. Took the bacon off the second steak and fried it, then seared both sides of the steak, took it off the heat, let it rest, then sliced it in three/sixteenths slices, seared the sides of the slices for less than a minute each, assembled a sandwich on large toasted slices of a very good multi-grain. The first slice goes down, you slather it with a good spread, whatever your preference, either a grainy mustard, or a garlic horseradish thing, and then you cover it completely with tenderloin slices, right from the skillet, without draining, top it with the bacon, then slices of Vidalia onion and a token lettuce, top the whole thing with morels and butter, plop the lid on. This is the best sandwich that I've ever had in my life. Bumps the formerly first to second. There are probably going to be some hard feelings, my experience is that if disturb anything, hackles are raised. We're a very conservative state, and any attempt at change has a long row to hoe. There are no qualifications, I could be Supreme Court judge, and I might be a good one. I tend to look at things closely. What's required. These storms are fucking with my head. They come out of nowhere, and don't leave a trace. I'm suspicious you can call them up at will. Who are you?