I think I have said I live in the South. Where it is hot. And humid. Spring around here is a fleeting thing, to be be marveled over and treasured while it lasts. We have had some hot days already, with temperatures in the 90s, but also some downright pleasant days and nights.  I hope my writing about one if those  unexpectedly  delightful evenings will not jolt our weather into what we have come to expect down here: unrelenting, steamy humidity and lows in the mid 90s.  This is when whatever you need to do outside should be done before 7:00 A.M. and after….. well, sometimes not in the evening at all. We all have to find ways to cope with trying to arrive at work without having sweated clean through our clothes. With even having to wear work clothes at all, when clearly a muu muu would be the only comfortable  form of attire. I know  those days are coming; I just don’t want to hasten them.

But about last night. Yesterday was my husband’s birthday, and we had planned our usual low key celebration. The birthday boy’s menu selection for the evening was not unexpectedly, a filet mignon grilled by himself, with an enormous baked potato, and fresh green beans to add color to the plate. While he was grilling, we both noticed how,  well, … nice it seemed outside. The temperature had cooled, and a nifty little breeze replaced the choking humidity of earlier in the day. I looked at him, and he looked at me. Could this actually be one of the five summer a nights a year when one could actually eat dinner outside  With no bugs? Rain was forecast for later that night, so chances were this nice little breeze might kick up into something more unpleasant, but what the heck. we had to try it.

In a trice I set up a little card table with a lacy  bridge tablecloth. My husband plated the steaks and brought them outside. I did have more luxurious linens and place settings, but time was of the essence. And spontaneity is just lots of fun.

We enjoyed a delicious dinner under the stars and still  it didn’t rain. That meant we could just linger under the trees, enjoying the night sounds. Of course I did not pass up an opportunity to remark upon what a perfect night it would be for camping. Since my husband is absolutely positively opposed to camping, he can always be counted upon to refute my statements about the night’s suitability for such an activity. Not that I would really know much about camping; I merely take perverse pleasure in bringing it up.

And we had other topics  to address in a leisurely manner, such as how many people could fit in house for a family reunion, and where to plant the new white caladiums  I had just bought.

The topics don’t matter. But the process of an unhurried evening definitely does matter. So seldom do we have such an opportunity to go such a short distance from home yet feel so free of responsibility. As we finally rose to take our things inside the house my husband remarked that there was nowhere else we could have gone in this city tonight where could have found anything better than this dinner in these surroundings. I just love it when he says things like that.