The transformer in the back yard caught on fire, the Tybee Police evict Sarah from bed until Georgia Power cuts the trees around lines killing everything in our meticulously landscaped yard or left hanging 20 feet in the air waiting for the next storm.
Sarah's car is recalled.
The AC in my car stops working.
The tenants in her rental think it's a good idea to leave a large wet rug on the back deck for a couple of months, rotting the wood and claiming it's our fault for putting the deck there in the first place.
The brand new door knob to the porch comes off in our hand.
It rains so much a lake now exists where I park.
I drop my I-phone shattering the glass cover.
But we are so happy to be together it doesn't matter.
I Got You Babe!
All you need is love!
Sarah's folks arrive from New York and on the first night I prepare a feast of slow cooked bar-b-que ribs, homemade au gratin potatoes and "southern" Green beans with lots of salt, bacon fat and my special ingredient.
Early afternoon, I fire up the Grill which is a lot like foreplay.
As the fire burns, I prepare the ribs, crank up the Beach Boys, fix a big drink and get ready for the long ... smoldering ... W.E.T. ... sensual ... sexual act of grilling.
Throwing the ribs on, I take a sip ... do a little dance ... and am suddenly horrified ... to watch one of the legs on my Grill ... ever so slowly ... slide across the deck ... with pork blistering in the heat above the coals.
"Goddess," I say to our dog ... who likes to grill with me, "this is not good."
Goddess is a smart dog who can speak telepathically screams, "SAVE THE MEAT."
Holding my drink in one hand, I quickly throw the ribs on a plate while the other saves the celebratory meal.
My Grill however is no more.
Oh well!
I Got You Babe!
All you need is love!
That's pretty much all we got.
