Today is the dayIt's the weekend

I poured a cup of coffee and went out to my garage frig.

I pulled out the enormous rack of ribs.

I brought the ribs into the kitchen and set them on a cutting board.

I set the crock pot on the counter and then held the rack of ribs over it, to determine where to cut them so that they would fit.

I removed each half of the rack from the package and laid it on the cutting board.

Thwack, went the huge cleaver.

Then, I rubbed both sides of each half with a mixture of cayenne pepper, salt, black pepper, sage and nutmeg.

They were set in the crock pot, one on top of the other.

I turned the crock pot on the lowest setting, and the ribs will cook, low and slow, for ten hours.

Then, I will brush them with sauce and place them under the broiler for 15 minutes.

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Everything here is green. In these northern latitudes, at this elevation, it careens drunkenly between the hallways of winter and summer, bouncing off the walls of each, scattering sunshine, snow showers, wildflowers and 50 degrees temperature swings.

At this time of year, you can get caught in very cold rain or snow on a long hike. The rivers are raging, as you can see below, and a mishap in the kayak would dump you in some very cold, very fast water. We must pick and choose south-facing aspects for hikes, and accept the risks on the water as a fair trade for the thrills.

It is already light until nearly 9 p.m.

When it finally lurches into full-blown summer, we will have long, dry, cloudless days.