Despite the subject title, this post IS SFW, as opposed to NSFW. Don’t you just love all the acronyms you have to learn to hang out on the internet? Oh, yeah. Me, too. 🙄 So. I’ve been craving BBQ ribs over over a week now. Everytime I think I’m going to get mine, Life happens. Understand, I don’t actually grill/smoke/cook my own ribs. Nope. Not my forte. My dad was the grillmaster. He did all sorts of things on the grill like yummy ribeye steak sandwiches–thin cut ribeye steaks, grilled to perfection and served on homemade buns. The buns? Now those I made using the family yeast roll recipe but rolling them out a little thicker and cutting them bigger. I even have a special “biscuit” cutter that’s the right size. His ribs though? They were the talk of the neighborhood. He started two days in advance, first rubbing and “resting” them then smoking them almost a full day before finishing them up oover an open flame on the grill. They were fall-off-the bone tender, flavorful but the beef/pork flavor came through loud and clear. I’m not patient enough. Period. Luckily, I live in BBQ country and we have a BBQ joint fairly close that does a dandy job with all the meats AND the BBQ sauce. FYI, I also make my own sauce when I’m doing a BBQ brisket. Those are done in the oven, not on a grill so totally in my wheelhouse.

Anyay, I’m still craving BBQ ribs. Also, I’m the only one in the family who likes to eat them–another reason for not going all out to prepare them. LG likes briske–chpped and sliced–and hot links. Oh, and BBQ bologna. Yes, it’s a thing. Don’t ask. I’ll eat fried Spam before I’ll eat bologna. But, you know…whatever. I like crunchy peanut butter, he likes smooth. We’ve still managed to stay married for going on 40 years now.

I promise this will circle back around to writing. Like, right now. I don’t know about other writers but my brain gets these little blips. It’s like it goes dark for a minute, totally unfocused on whatever I was doing or thinking, and when it comes back on line, it’s spewing otu…stuff. Stuff that has nothing to do with anything remotely what I’m working on. This happened yesterday afternoon as I was revising RESCUE MOON and craving BBQ ribs. This is what happened:

Brain: *blip*

Me: *stops reading/typing but still hankering for Earl’s BBQ ribs

Brain: “Lordy, child, but sumthin’ sure got a’hold of you.”
“Yes’m. It surely did.”
“What was it?”
“I don’t rightly know but it sure took a dislikin’ to me.”
“Well, set’cherself up on that table so I can get a good look at’cha. What’s your name, girl? Where’d you come from?”
Brain: *returns to normal function*

I’m not kidding. That conversation popped into my head and after it replayed a couple of times, I figured I’d better write it down. So I did. On my white board. Have I mentoned I love my white board? I do. Totally. Thing is, I have no clue who these characters are, where they live, what *it* is, or anything else that’s going on. Will it turn up in a book some day? Probably. Why? Because my brain is totally this:

It’s stuff like this that keeps me awake at night. I have no excuse. It’s just the way I’m wired. Some days, I’m amazed I get anything at all done. Thos that’s today’s bit of writing weirdness. My question to y’all, are you a fan of BBQ? If so, what do you make or are you lazy like me and just get it from the restaurant because…instant gratification!