Flash player is required to view weather conditions. Download

site web  

In the 1990s our backyard was a veritable playground. We had the wooden swing set. A sandbox. An inflatable kiddie pool. Brightly colored plastic toys.

We went outside a lot in those days.

But the kids outgrew the toys, the swing set came down to make mowing easier, and for the last few years we experienced summer through the windows of our air-conditioned family room. Outdoor cooking meant running out to put the meat on the grill and getting back inside as quickly as possible to set the table and make the side dishes.

This year I resolved to change that. I planted flowers. I bought outdoor furniture. I cleaned up the patio.

But once the furniture was assembled and the work was done, I found there weren't many reasons to be outside.

If it's not too hot, it's too wet. The longer I'm out there, the more bugs I attract. The wind blows the newspaper away, the sun's too bright to read, or the neighbors are mowing their lawns. The inside of the house starts looking pretty good.

I always thought I was an outdoors person at heart. When I was young, family vacations meant sleeping in a tent somewhere in Michigan's Upper Peninsula.

Before the first Earth Day was declared in 1970, I joined a junior conservation organization. Various projects took us to wilderness areas in Wisconsin.

(I came across an old photo from one of those projects that showed my dad sitting on a log and drinking a canned cocktail. I think that's what most of the chaperones did. I think that's why we had so many chaperones and took so many trips.)

In college at Indiana University, my cohorts and I would grab sleeping bags, snacks and beverages and hike deep into Brown County State Park, where we'd make an unofficial campsite and sleep under the stars.

A few months ago I read "A Walk in the Woods," Bill Bryson's account of his attempt to walk the Appalachian Trail. All 2,175 miles of it. He didn't succeed as a through-hiker, but it made me want to test my mettle in a similar way.

Then came my ill-fated mission trip to New Orleans, and I found just how low on mettle I really am.

Our quarters were a school building that had been under water after levees broke. It had no interior doors. The windows were boarded. The floors were stripped of carpet, the cinder block walls barren. We slept in rows of cots crowded into former classrooms. There was no air conditioning.

After a few nights, I gathered my belongings and headed to the nearest — and, as it turned out, only – hotel in the mostly-uninhabited area. The view outside my door showed a billboard with four huge mug shots and the words "Wanted for Murder" displayed across the top. The lobby remained locked around the clock.

I wanted to go home.

I guess I've gotten soft as I've matured, and I no longer want to spend too much time away from my bed and TV. That doesn't mean I can't enjoy my patio.

Grilling corn on the cob allows you to make the bulk of your meal outside. Those precious minutes between turning the ears and checking the meat are moments of solitude to be savored.

A favorite grilled entrée is steak kabobs in garlic-ginger-soy marinade. Combine 1/3 cup soy sauce, 3 tablespoons vegetable oil, 3 tablespoons sesame oil, 3 minced cloves garlic, 1 tablespoon fresh ginger and 2 tablespoons brown sugar; cut the steak into 1 1/2-inch cubes and marinate for 30 minutes to an hour. Thread skewers with the meat and veggies of your choice.

Corn on the cob needs about 10 minutes on the grill, turning frequently, or until lightly browned on all sides. A simple yet outstanding condiment for the corn is Smoked Butter.

Smoked Butter

Makes enough for 6 ears of corn

1 tablespoon butter, melted

1 teaspoon minced shallots

1 teaspoon honey

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/4 teaspoon paprika

Combine the ingredients in a small bowl and brush on the hot corn.

Vote for this story!