I had this awesome spot set up that would perfectly toast the marshmallows. Like a little kiln in the fire pit. I’m usually to impatient to toast them, and I plunge them straight into the flames until they are charred and molten balls of goo. I love the burnt marshmallow taste, but I can also appreciate the subtlety of a perfectly golden toasting.
The phone rang–an important call from the doctor. Then the looming rain finally started coming down and took out the coals.
Oh well, smores for lunch wasn’t the best idea anyway.
Summer is indeed just about over.