I had a good weekend but a rough morning…  I’ll do my level best to slop through an update though.  The main event for my weekend was the Saint Joe BBQ contest.  I headed up north Friday afternoon on my trusty scooter and met up at Martin’s house to get ready, stopping by North Oak Quality Meats on the way to pick up a few briskets.  From there we headed even farther north to the beautiful metropolis of St. Joe, where Zim and Chad were already set up and waiting.  I’d say we had a pretty solid party Friday night, although Martin, Brice and I kind of stayed away from the action.  Moody artists, you know.  The TFB margarita machine was a big hit as always.

I felt I worked my brisket plan a little more effectively than at the Royal;  I put a new dry rub recipe on them around midnight and bagged ’em, then snuck in the trailer to catch a little nap.  Brice woke me up at the unholy hour of 3:00 to take over fire duty, so the briskets hit the smoke at 4:00, precisely as scheduled.  I must say, I was in rather high spirits all morning, dare I say even a smidgen excited.  There was no hint of trouble until I pulled them at noon, and one of them broke in half when I picked it up.  Overcooked AGAIN!!  I was so frustrated I seriously decided I was done with the sport.  I didn’t even want to turn it in, and if not for the fact that it has some rather negative implications for the team I would have thrown it straight in the trash.  So, I cobbled together the best shreds of beef I could find and dejectedly took the march of shame up to the turn-in.  As it turns out, it placed seventh.  Not exactly great (there were only 24 teams) but not too shabby either.  I honestly was almost a bit perturbed, as by the time Chud phoned us the results I was quite at peace with my decision to hang up my tongs.  So, I guess I’ll live to burn at least one more hunk of beef.  Overall, the event was a good time had by all, and team TFB didn’t do too bad in the standings… Better than the Royal anyway.  After the ‘que contest we headed back to Martin’s house.  They were having a Cinco de Mayo party that night, so Chris and I snuggled up on the couch and caught a little shut-eye.  (How long will it take you to get that visual out of your head?)  Donette and I managed to hang in there at the party until 10:30 or so, then we bailed back to the safety of the southlands.

Sunday was kind of a washout, literally.  We had a neighborhood party planned up the street, but their basement flooded so they were busy bailing out the mess.  We bummed around Costco for a bit, then headed back up north to pick up my junk I’d left at Martin’s.  The good news is I recovered all my BBQ gear, the bad news is I took off my rain jacket and left it there.  Dang, ANOTHER trip north in my future.  Other than a rather unfortunate incident involving the dogs, our muddy back yard, and our previously light tan carpet, it was an uneventful day.  I even took a few pictures, in case we have to turn this one in to insurance.  Sigh.  That’s just the steps in the pictures;  The carnage continued into the bedroom, the office, and the majority of the downstairs.  Actually nobody saw them in action, so it may have been the cat.  Right.