I visited my good friend Suzanne this weekend in Asheville, NC. What a pretty town! We did lots of catching up and went on a million cute outings and meals. I also got to:
Privately shop in a store.
Suzanne works at the cutest little boutique, The Gardener’s Cottage, every Saturday. The store is closed on Sundays, so we went in for a quick peak to look around. It was so cute and fresh-smelling and homey.
I wanted to purchase everything in sight, but instead walked away with just one thing. I bought this glass liquor bottle, as we’re collecting different shapes and sizes of them to place above one of our mantles:
Fun Factor: 10
In the 4 years since I started this blog, I’ve noticed two consistent trends within the content of my posts. #1 I eat a lot. #2 I drink a lot. Just an observation.
I toured a bourbon distillery.
Good friends Emily and Willis visited us in October and we wanted to show them some of the outskirts of Kentucky in the fall. We took a drive to Bardstown, and then we toured the Maker’s Mark distillery. From my basic education, I knew that alcohol came from fermenting grains, plants, oats and corn, but I didn’t really understand what that may look like until we were standing over this vat of what resembled vomit:
What human thought up THAT process way back when… You know what? I’ve been thinking. I bet if I leave some oats out for a long time and mix it with some shit and leave it marinating, it will form a liquid that I can then strain, refine and imbibe. After that, I’ll probably streak my neighbor’s house while listening to power ballads.
Maker’s Mark was adorable and incredibly efficient from what we could gather on the tour. They only have like 25 employees who maintain the distillery that supplies the entire world with their goods. (Emily was a little less trusting than the rest of us and couldn’t shake the impression that our tour guide was hiding something.)
All of their buildings are painted in this black and red. Not just for looks, though. The warehouses that hold the barrels are painted black so that the sun’s heat flocks to them and ages the bourbon. I’m a wealth of knowledge.
Fun factor: 10
My friend Molly and I went on vacation together in January, so:
I went on a cruise.
Check, #22. Our boat was called Oasis of the Seas and I think Molly and I would have volunteered to clean up the vomit from each deck floor if they would let us stay forever. Yummy food, drinks and entertainment. Casinos, simulated surfing game, basketball courts, dozens of restaurants, plays and musicals, etc. I’ve heard people say they hate the feeling of being cooped up on a boat for a week. Clearly they did not have a balcony room on this effing boat.
Fun Factor: 10
Since I surround myself with degenerates, at times we are forced to secure third-party transportation in order to enjoy ourselves during social functions. On this recent trip, Keeneland was an hour away from where we were all staying, so we needed a DD:
I rode on the Bus Shizzle.
The Bus Shizzle was quite the experience. The ride there was replete with innocent toasts among friends, views of the rolling hills of KY and silent prayers to higher beings hoping not to die from the 90 MPH speeds the ‘Shizzle was somehow reaching. The ride home was a bit less tame. Some theorists believe the 6 hours of bourbon drinking played a role in the changed behavior.
Fun factor: 10+
A few years ago I noticed a trend in airports in the southern United States- rocking chairs that lined the gate areas for our use in resting our tired traveling booties. My mind always conjured an image of sitting on a veranda in Savannah (never been there), sipping on sweet tea and talking about the good old days when only girls wore earrings, dammit! Suddenly years later, all airports have them. People seem to dig ’em, and today I joined in the good times:
I sat on a rocking chair in the airport.
I hope you appreciate the photographic evidence supplied on this one b/c everyone in the vicinity was wondering why the creepy girl in the rocking chair was taking birds-eye photographs of herself.
I set up shop and plugged in my computer, did some work, ate a muffin, drank a pop and rocked. True story.
Fun factor: 10
I’m not much of a liquor drinker. I’ll have a margarita on a somewhat regular basis, but generally I order beer or wine. As we settled down to 99 Hanover, a restaurant/bar in Edinburgh, a cocktail sounded so refreshing. I asked our waitress to recommend one and she produced an absolute delight.
I had the *best cocktail of my life.
I tend to keep track of extraordinary moments in food/drink in my life, and so far I’ve been able to say that I’ve had a *best breakfast (divine plate of eggs benedict and fruit in a Santa Monica cafe/ 2004) and a *best lunch (warm goat cheese salad with bread in Luxembourg City 2001), but a best cocktail had yet to occur.
It was vodka, fresh raspberries (muddled and for garnish), simple syrup and ginger ale served in a tall glass with a straw and side of rapture.
Emily drinking the creation below:
The cute restaurant:
Fun factor: 10
*subject may be trumped by a better contender at any given moment in time
We ate lots of fried objects on our trip. Emily justified this with the fact that we walked all day long everywhere- we only took one cab on the entire trip. Perhaps it would be justifiable to me if I too weighed EIGHTY POUNDS. I’m nice and roundish and weigh, well, more than eighty pounds.
Among other local delicacies:
I ate fish cakes.
Yes, it’s what you’re thinking- similar to crab cakes but with fish. Delicious. We had these in the adorable fishing village of Oban.
Fun factor: 7