Thankful Thursday

On this, the last day of a cold February morning, I am thankful for a warm house filled with love and faithful furry faces!

Monthly Cocktail Hour-White Russian

Last Sunday we had our monthly virtual cocktail hour.  This time my mom joined us, as Sweet Sarah and I were visiting her during the appointed hour.

The libation on this day was a White Russian.  This, I confess to my mother, is the first drink my sister Amy served me after we escaped across the Canadian border while she was home from college on Spring Break.  Oh yeah.  I was big time!  Of course, I found the taste TOTALLY disgusting, but it didn't matter.  I was AN ADULT!!!

So here we are.  Bartender Sarah is concocting.  Mama C is entertaining Shelley and Robin.

Check out Mama C and Shelley.  As if they do this regularly. Wait, maybe they do and I don't know it!!!

This my friends.  This little trickery move you're witnessing above is the key to the ENTIRE DRINK!!!  Failure to pour over the back of the spoon results in some crazy chemical reaction and everything quickly goes to curds and whey.  Oh yeah.  Nastiness.  What? What's that you ask?  How do I know this?  Oh well, because it happened of course.  I took a picture of the curds and whey, but didn't have the patience to upload it.  Just trust me on this one.

Barkeep Sarah's handiwork

Cheers!!!!  Robin is drinking a Black Russian, in case you're wondering.

All in all, Round Two was a grand success.  And a good time was had by all!

Why didn't I Listen to my Mom?

Yep, it's official.  I have officially become old enough to ADMIT that I should've (and probably should) listen to my mother.

Who wouldn't listen to a woman who wear a hot dog on her head?

Last night I sat down at the piano and feebly made my way through some hymns.  And as I struggled to make my fingers work while simultaneously reading both lines for left and right hand it occurred to me (again.), Mom was right.  I should've never quit piano lessons.  (I have, of course, had this thought before, but I'm now admitting it publicly)

By the time I was a high school junior I had been taking lessons for six years.  Four of these years were spent with the wonderful Mrs. Straight.  Once a week I would skip my lunch hour and walk across the street from the school and take a lesson.  Many, many times during that weekly lesson Mrs. Straight would ask, "Holly, how much did you practice this week?" [ummm, I'm pretty sure she knew the answer before she asked].  We really had a quite candid relationship, looking back that's probably why I liked her so much.  After a few years together, I'd walk in the front door [Mrs. Straight never wanted her students to knock.  "Just walk in when you're here"] and put it out there.  "Well, I haven't practiced this week, so it's not going to be good."

You see, I was really torn at that time between two things I really, really loved.  Softball and music.  [my mother would add socializing]  I played on several teams in the summer, had quite the demanding social life and besides one other friend, was the only one still taking piano lessons in high school.  So, finding time to practice the piano cramped my style at times.  But I did love it.  Still love it actually.  But Mrs. Straight still encouraged me, saw potential in me and held me accountable to practicing.  

One day at the end of my lesson dear Mrs. Straight, told me it was time to move on.  She wanted me to do two things.  First, she wanted me to have a musical affair on her and begin seeing someone else!  GASP!  She recommended I begin seeing another piano teacher at Bowling Green State University.  It seemed, she had taken me as far as I could go and it was time for me to move on to the next level.  And second, she wanted me to begin taking organ lessons.  Apparently, there was a shortage of church ready organists.  Mrs. Straight suggested it would be a great opportunity for me to make a little extra money and learn a new instrument.  

I don't really remember how I told my parents about this conversation.  But I do remember weighing the decision and the implications it would have on my social life. And I remember thinking about the fact that I had reached a crossroads---to quit piano altogether or move to the next level.  My parents, of course, encouraged me to move to the nexrt level.  I wasn't so sure.  My mom [pay attention dear readers], my mom said, "if you quit now, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."  

My mom was right.  

She was so right.

I never went to BG for lessons.  I finished the year with Mrs. Straight and carried on to the blissful social life of a seventeen year old. 

So last night, I got to thinking about my mom being right about the piano.  And what other things she has been [or is] right about.  Here's a few I can name....

- Quitting piano lessons [still regret it.  perhaps I should put it on The List]

- "When you know, you know." 

- All things medical.  Seriously, the woman is always three steps ahead of most doctors.

- "Pray about it." - she reminds us often to do this

-Live Life for Today.  My adventurous spirit comes from her

-A cooking go to.  I still call and ask random questions about cooking.  "Can I....?"  "should I...?", "How do I...?"  And without missing a bit she'll have the answer.

-Fashionista.  At 39 I am happy to let the woman still dress me.  Yep.  I admit it.  Ain't nothing better than giving Claudia a budget and letting her put a new seasonal wardrobe together for me. 

Thanks, Mama!  

A tracker for The List

Alright, so I have been behind on blogging and really that can be translated on being behind on the entire reason I started the blog in the first place.  Sheesh!  I'm only three months into this and I'm behind.  Not good.  Not good at all people!  

So rather than blogging, I've been thinking.  [Yeah, I know, doesn't count as the same thing].  Nevertheless, I'm wondering if there are any smarty tarty folks out there that know how to add a handy dandy little tracker-thingy to my blog so I and ALL of my fabulous readers [listen!  You wouldn't believe how overwhelming it is having two loyal readers!] can follow along in my progress towards completing The List.

Anyone?  Anyone?

Buehler?  Buehler?

Sniff.  Sniff.  I just realized my mom and Sweet Sarah don't know how to do handy dandy tracker-thingys either.  So, I won't be expecting anything in the comments.

Surprise Date Night #3

Ok, ok, I am WAY behind in blogging. I could write an entirely separate blog lamenting on the reasons as to why I haven't kept all (read: all = both of you, mom and Sweet Sarah) of my faithful readers entertained and inspired in the last week, but alas, I won't bore you with the details.

I am happy to report that surprise date night #3 was a success!

We attended a Wine Tasting and education class hosted by Blue Canyon in Twinsburg followed by dinner (this time I wasn't taking any chances. I made reservations for dinner to immediately follow the tasting).  Check it out here.  Doesn't it look fun?!  [I know!  I totally scored on planning this one. ]

The event was led by a local wine distributor and it was a lot of fun and very interesting. What set this event apart from other wine tasting I had attended was the set up and style. Rather than tasting one type of wine and moving on to the next, we actually tasted two types of the SAME wine -same grapes from different regions...or in most cases, one European wine, one Californian wine. It made for a great compare/contrast tasting.

This particular night was completely focused on red wines, so Sweet Sarah and I enjoyed that even more. It's not as though we won't drink white wine, but our preference really is red.

Zinfandel.  Malbec (our personal go-to), Syrah.  Tempranillo.  Four grapes.  Eight wines.

Now if you're in to wines and tasting, this would be your thing.  It was really fascinating to taste the same grape, grown in different parts of the world.  As you might imagine, they were very different from each other.

Blue Canyon did an excellent job with this too.  They brought out appetizers, had a full place setting and the wine rep really walked you through the structure and tasting of the wine.  Plus, throw in meeting new people and socializing and I'm a happy girl!

Now, I wish I could show you a lot of pictures and fun shots of the wine and the bottles and well, US, at this event.  But....I can't.  It never occurred to me to take pictures.  Hopefully Sweet Sarah will back me up that this really happened.  AND, more importantly, that she gave it a two thumbs up!

A Slow News Day....

Well, I've been neglectful of the blog this week.  A busy work schedule and a nagging little abdominal pain (which, and I only add for your entertainment value since it has certainly not been for mine, has resulted in a prescription of "bland diet" from the doctor [and nurse Claudia].  I'm here to blog about it friends.....LISTEN UP!  Mind your P's and Q's.  Earn your jewels for your heavenly crown and live an upstanding, God fearing life because I'm pretty darn certain a BLAND DIET will be served in Hell.  "Welcome to Hell.  Enjoy a dreadful cardboard-encrusted white flour roll and some tepid sulfur water in our welcome reception area."  Dreadful, I say.  Just dreadful!)

Anywho, I seem to have given the appearance that it's been a slow news week here at The Drayer.

But we mustn't disappoint, shall we?

Let's see what I can dust off in the memories o' the week....

• Saturday- In spite of my miserable skiing fail, the significance of the day did not go unnoticed for my family.  Feb 2 marked the five year mark of saying good-bye to my dad.  He was a larger than life character.  And we all have so many memories of him making us laugh.  His infamous one-liners live on.  "I'd give my left arm to be ambidextrous."

I miss him.  For so many reasons.  Five years have gone by so quickly and so agonizingly slow.  At some point you find yourself wishing to speed it up to get through the grief quicker.  Unfortunately it doesn't work that way.

Dad on the right with his parents.  He was always teasing his mom (a trait I clearly picked up!)

I have every confidence he is NOT eating a bland diet!  Enjoy, Dad.  The heaven I know is a luscious feast!

• Surprise Date Night:  Yep, pulled off another one.  Blog to follow.  As a preview...Sweet Sarah gives it a two thumbs up.  Stay tuned.

• Downton Abbey:  ok, ok.  True blogging confession.  THIS SHOW WITH CRACK-LIKE ADDICTION PROPERTIES IS TO BLAME FOR MY LACK OF BLOGGING.  There.  I said it.  I confess.  The Drayer is addicted.  And caught up.  We anxiously await tomorrow night.  HOLY COW IT'S GOOD!  Might I also add, I'm tickled this hit show is on PBS!  How great is that?  I can just imagine the big network executives cringing every time they see a social media post or reference.  Love it!
• [as a sidebar:  I have been trying to convince Sweet Sarah that I, like Lady Mary, should have breakfast and coffee delivered bedside each morning.  She ain't buyin' it.  Not even one iota.  harumph!]

          Who is your favorite character?

          Are you like me, does watching the show make you want to do a bit of reading on the formalities that you see on the show?  I mean, why do is the food offered to the dinner table and they serve themselves, rather than being served?  And what exactly IS the pecking order downstairs?

Finally, here's a funny pic of Teddy trying to figure out how he's going to "kill the new beast on the couch while the people are gone, since fear remanded him to the basement."  The new "beast" is our friend's VERY harmless dog, who is quite afraid of the furry felines.

The "beast" is on the couch sleeping, completely unaware.  Teddy is plotting but SCARED!!!!!!

An $89 Beer

Yep. It's true. I'm sitting here drinking an $89 beer. Well to be honest it's probably a $389 beer. I'm. Not. Kidding.

So here's how it went down. We drove 3 hours through a lake effect snow storm. Stopped when we couldn't see the road any longer and found a Holiday Inn (read on and you'll see I'm not any smarter for staying there). Shelled out $129 for that. Then drove another hour and half this morning to join up with our good friends who had staked out a rental home at the base of Holiday Valley ski resort. (Yep. You're on to me aren't you? )

We caught up with them at lunch and then I suited up. Warm layers. Check. Boots that make my toes numb. Check. Young 16 year old girl who helped me put on my boots because I apparently looked like I needed help. Check. Helmet. Check. Here we go.

For the first time in 13 years I waddle my fat a@& out to meet my overly patient friends.

I completely CONQUER the lift. BAM! Sign me up for the Olympics. I owned that beast!

And then......

Then....

Well then I had to go down the HILL!!!! Shit. Oh gosh. What the H was I thinking? Ok. I can do this. Yep. I got this. Here we go. Oh yeah. I'm moving. I'm still standing lean. Snow plow. Lean. Yeah yeah. A little faster. Yep. OOF. AND I'm down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Sweating. Yep what was I thinking?

And them it hits me. The only way to make this stop....I have to get to he bottom. And so it goes. Up. Down. Up. Down. And I wish I could do it justice in my writing. Because it wasn't that quicker painless or pretty. It was more down. Panting. Sweating. Undoing boots. Praying to the gods of orthopedic grace and wondering why I wore so many dang layers!!!! Sheesh. It was NOT this hard the last time I did this I'm positive.

Oh wait. The last time? Thirteen years and at probably 30 lbs ago. Yeah. Sigh.

So here I am. One run down the mountain. And i found the bar and a beer. A really really expensive beer.

Did I mention I conquered the lift? Oh yeah.