This past Sunday, I was invited to a BBQ with some of the Berkeley saints along with a number of college brothers. While others were cooking up some saliva inducing pork ribs, six of us played croquet. Brother Chuck, our host, totally cleared us all out in one fell swoop after he became poison. (In croquet, after you navigate through all the wickets and hit the final peg, your ball becomes “poison” and is able to eliminate all the balls it touches from the game.) Obviously, he had home court advantage.
The BBQ itself was delicious. There were some pretty good sausages, and we also had some honey-barbeque beans with real bacon and chunky pork bits. But the ribs. MmmMmm. The portions of the rib around the cartilage were so fatty that it melted in my mouth. It was yummzers.
Then the brothers had a brief meeting regarding the ushering at the Lord’s Day meetings (which was actually the main point of the BBQ). Afterwards, we went and played some volleyball. I was so engrossed in the game that I clotheslined myself on the support ropes when chasing a loose ball. That was an experience. My glasses, of course, went flying.