Category Archives: Adventures

Pilgrimage

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I know, I know.  Y’all have been on the edge of your seats.

Yes, we did make it to The World Famous Olive Garden on Friday night.

Who wouldn’t want to make that place numero uno on their list?

Wild horses couldn’t have kept us away.

When one of the servers showed us where Marilyn sat, my eyes got as wide as saucers. 

I couldn’t even help it.

While none of us ordered the Raspberry Lemonade, Michelle and I did drink champagne with the biggest strawberries I’ve ever seen in a cocktail. 

They may or may not have overwhelmed the glass.

It just seemed kind of fitting.

What’s your go-to cocktail when you’re out?

North!

Please accept my apologies for the photocopied and then run through a fax machine-quality of this snap.

With the quality of light that we have in our bedroom (AKA until we get nightstands, we’re rocking the solo-overhead), it was the best that I could do.

See?  I wasn’t kidding.  It’s like we’re in 1995 and everyone is new at The Internet and faxing to their heart’s content.

Anyway, surprise-surprise, we’re off adventuring again.

Adam (my brother-in-law) is graduating from the University of North Dakota this weekend and so tomorrow afternoon, we’re making the sojourn from The Cities to Grand Forks.

The last time we trekked up there, I had a bit of culture shock (yes, seriously) because I didn’t realize how many Canadians would be there.

Considering the fact that Winnipeg is only ~3 hours away, they’re closer together than we are, really.

This trip, my big goal (I’ve ALMOST got Marcus on board) is to grab a drink from the bar at The World Famous Olive Garden.  You know, to make Marilyn proud.

Is there a more noble pilgrimage than that?

I think not.

And only because I managed to stun myself, today I ask, How many pairs of shoes did I pack?

For context, we’re coming home on Sunday.

Good Decisions

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Today: Two more breweries and the overwhelming sense that some of my organs may be shutting down.

Which is to say that this trip was A Good Decision.

More details to come tomorrow.

What is your favorite beer?

On the Road

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At Pearl Street Brewery Tap Room with Billy in La Crosse.

SO, the reason that I did all of that crazy run re-arranging and what-have-you last week is because we are on vacation through Monday.

After we got home from Napa, I wondered why we wouldn’t do a craft brewery tour in Wisconsin.  You know, since we (actually) like beer more than wine and it’s SO much closer.

We started making vague plans and finally took this show on the road after my long run Friday morning. 

Yesterday we were in La Crosse, today we were in Milwaukee, and tomorrow we head to Madison.

So far, it’s making Napa look like Amateur Hour.  We’re loving it sick.

What is the last road-trip-type.vacation you took?

Impulsive

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Today was the kind of day where I didn’t want to run, but I ran anyway.

We went to happy hour.

Caught up.

Unwound.

And one of our favorite Italian restaurants (I kid you not, I was raised on the stuff) brought back their “After Eight” date night deal.

It’s not very often that we’re in the city in the right place or at the right time for this kind of thing. 

But tonight, we had absolutely nothing holding us back.  No one to come home for, nothing to come home to.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go slip into an olive-red wine-penne-induced coma.

Amen.

What’s the best date-night special in your neck of the woods? 

A Three Hour Cruise

Or a 10 hour extravaganza, more like.

A few weeks ago, my Godmother Jill invited us to go out with her and her boyfriend Tony on the Minnesota River.

Obviously by this point, y’all know I’ll do basically anything to get out on the water and I was more than happy to accept that invitation.

Because getting invited is so much better for one’s pride than begging ;)

We pulled in at 10 AM, freshly scrubbed and totally exhausted by last night’s festivities.  Adam and Galina’s wedding was absolutely amazing, but there are only so many sins that a run, a cup of coffee and a heavy hand with the eyeliner can erase.

I was absolutely fascinated by the marina.  There were SO many boats and so many boats that are different from what we see out on the lakes!

We also learned that Tony has some pretty cool houseboat-neighbors – they’re an extremely communal bunch.  Apparently his dock is The Dock to have a slip on because they’re so close.

The boat itself was nothing to sneeze at either.  Naturally I didn’t even think about taking pictures of it until we were on the darned thing.

Yes, you can take these to mean that lots of James Bond-style sliding along the edge of the boat was taking place.  Which really isn’t such a big deal until you’re moving at a fairly good place and the water is only three or four feet away from you.

It’s a good incentive to make sure that you’re holding on tight!

And then there was the river.  I was deadly-fascinated by the little bits of industry that popped up here and there.

It was so quiet while we were out there – I saw more herons and egrets than I have fingers and toes to count.  Perching in trees, standing in the water, soaring, landing, swooping, hunting.  You name it, they were doing it.

Between those critters, the screaming eagle and the flock of osprey, I was hooked.

The only thing that remains to be seen is what sort of extremely uneven sunburn I managed to give myself today.  That could be a real treat.

What did you do for labor day weekend?

A Drive Through the Country

Today was the 25th New London to New Brighton Antique Car Run.

Don’t know what that is?  I didn’t either…until last year.

I know, I know.  This is the part of the show where you’re all trying to figure out if I’ve totally lost my marbles, wanting to talk to about…antique cars.

I don’t think so…yet.

But anyway.  Marcus’ side of the family?  Are (major) car people.  And some close family friends are car people too.  So they brought up a couple of their cars to make the run this year.

The run itself is this really festive production with hundreds of old cars and people in period costumes and a course meant to pay homage to the London to Brighton Car Run in England.

In order to participate, your car has to have a certain number of cylinders in the engine (it’s not a very big number) and be REALLY OLD.  Think: Pre-1910.

Feel like a fish out of water yet?

Me too.

Since I’m terrible at the specifics, just have a look at our sweet ride.

Right?

The run actually spans an entire day (it’s a 120 mile course), but for those members of the group made of less sterner stuff, joining-up for a portion of the ride is a totally acceptable way to go.

So, in the spirit of Living Life To The Fullest (and being supportive children and all that) Michelle and I drove out to Buffalo to meet-up with them so that we could ride along  for a while.

We ended up getting out there at about 1:30, which was actually perfect.  There was a bit of a chill in the air this morning, but by the time we made our way into the country, it was pleasantly warm with only happy, puffy clouds dotting the sky.

Driving in the great wide open isn’t new to me – my high school boyfriend had a rockin’ baby blue Celica that he ferried me to and from school in every day.

But experiencing the countryside in this type of car was unlike any other driving experience I’ve ever had.

It was really…pastoral.

And then I got really carried away with all of the road signage.

I’m just…really sorry about that.  Really.

I don’t know what got into me.

It just happens sometimes.

We probably rode for about 35 minutes, until we rolled into mile 91 and our car started overheating.

At that point, it just seemed best to call it a day.

Have you ever ridden in an antique car or participated in any sort of car show/run?

Bloggers, when you take photos, are your subjects usually people or things?

I’ll be honest, lately I’ve been MUCH more into things than people.  I’m not sure if it’s because things are a better narrator, or if it’s because I have zero experience capturing candid shots of people.

On State Street

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I know,  I KNOW. 

In case you couldn’t tell by my Tweets, I’m in Madison right now.  The land where New Glarus Brewing company beers flow from the tap like water and you can’t walk more than five feet without hitting a cheese curd.

Yes, seriously.  It might be love.

We’re in-town for Galina’s bachelorette party and it has already been a whirlwind weekend.  Between listening to a band play late-night on The Terrace, a beast of a long run this morning and a trip to the Farmers’ Market (I bought an entire loaf of spicy cheese bread and just started eating), I feel like we have managed to do absolutely everything and nothing at the same time.

And did I mention that I’m amongst kindred spirits who appreciate the fine art of the FroYo bar?  Because there’s that too.  After a roll in the hay with a sample-sized cake batter-oreo-pretzels-heath-sprinkles arrangement, I crossed the street to get some of the old school probiotic tart-stuff loaded up with fruit.

To quote Mikey Cyrus, “It’s the best of both worlds.”

My dignity is gone.

Tonight’s goal?  To figure out whether or not I really can rock an orange dress with an exposed zipper.  For $17, I figured it was worth a shot.

What’s your favorite FroYo topping?

Have you ever been to a destination bachelorette party?  Where?

A trip to the Market

Happy Saturday, kittens!

I actually have a three-day weekend situation going on here that I’ll  explain tomorrow.  Since I’m in the middle of living presently and all that, we live in the now ;)

Today was meant to be a day of Admin.  I rolled out of bed at 5 AM, ran 15 miles, slept it off and then took my dresses for the rehearsal dinner and the reception to the tailor.

Productivity = Accomplished.

As far as I’m concerned you have to Go Big or…Go Big.

Post-tailor, I managed to cajole (okay so it really didn’t take any cajoling at all) Mom into going down to the Midtown Global Market.  The Minnesota Food Bloggers were having a bake sale and I wanted to eat some damn good food.

Yes, it’s curse-worthy.

The Market has been on my To-Do list for like a year now, mostly because I haven’t been in AGES (read: more than a year) and it lends itself SO well to feasting.  Which is to say that mentally, I think of it as the State Fair of Ethnic Foods, all of the choices being 11/10.

And, having spent an hour there, I was totally reminded as to why I put this place on the same level as Whole Foods and Lunds.  I avoid setting foot in them at All Costs because otherwise, I end up wanting to buy basically everything in sight.

Some girls have a shoe problem.  I like to think I have a purse problem.  But the reality is, I have a grocery problem.

What did we see?

More feta choices than I thought one ever could (or should!) have.

Wares.

Herds.

All cheeses big and small.

Neon cookies from the panaderia.

And a plate of deliciousness from La Loma Tamales.

I was not mentally prepared.  Just call this therapy divided into thirds.

Naturally there was a lovely Chocolate Dulce Cupcake from Salty Tart that I dominated in the car on the way home.  I wanted to wait until I was at a proper table, I really did.  But to spend even a minute trying NOT to think about chocolate buttercream frosting and a salty caramel center is to hear its siren song.

And that bake sale?  Was fabulous.  I snagged a jar of homemade fig jam for $5.  I’ve been trying to use The Secret to source a jar FOREVER and so when I saw it on the counter, I didn’t even hesitate before snatching it up.

Are there any global market/mass food court-type buildings near you?

What are your go-to bake sale buys?

I’ll always choose canned things like jams, pickles, etc. if I have that choice.  Otherwise, I’m A Major Fan of homemade things that have been dipped in chocolate like Buckeyes and Black & White cookies.

Operation: Trenta

I preface this by saying that I rarely go out for coffee.  I love brewing a pot and sitting in our sunny kitchen, either catching up on blogs, or trying to address my ongoing battle against the pile of magazines that threaten to overtake me at any minute.

So in February, I decided that in the spirit of That One Time Where I Ate A Big Mac Snack Wrap For The Team (depraved), I wanted to try the Starbucks Trenta.  If you’ve been living blissfully unawares, the Trenta is a 31 ounce caffeineated behemoth (it only comes in iced coffee or iced tea) meant to spread enlightenment and energy to The Masses.

Since there are some paths that no one should walk alone, I managed to rope Kirsten and Megan into doing it with me.

Insanity loves company.

Starbucks tried to thwart us, because while allegedly the Trenta would be available nationwide on May 3rd, it apparently is not available in Northern markets.

Tricky.

But not to be deterred, we were hell-bent on drinking a Trenta of something.

Mere mortals might have called it a day, but no.  Two Grandes and an extra ounce of coffee later, I was on the warpath.

At which point the barista subjected me to an interrogation as to whether or not I wanted my coffee sweetened.  Truly, the only conversation topic that could have been more complex at that particular moment in time is the Middle East Peace Process.  But, after a bit of a debate, we managed to come to the conclusion that since I was [technically] ordering two coffees, we could sweeten one and leave the other.

They say that variety is the spice of life, no?

I decided to try to down the unsweetened coffee first since I thought that the sweetener might mask some of the watered-down flavor of the second coffee.  Not that drinking 32 ounces of coffee requires some sort of epic strategy.

But it might.

About 1 1/2 hours in, I finished the first one while I watched NBC’s Mint Julep-laden coverage of the Kentucky Derby.  This was a feat in and of itself in the sense that I probably only drink 12 ounces of coffee a day to begin with.

But the Trenta isn’t about moderation.  It’s about going big or going to the bathroom.

And as I picked up my second coffee, I had the dreadful realization that the coffee and I were basically going to be soulmate-ing until the finish.  By soulmate-ing, I mean that I was committing to being That Girl who carries her coffee shop cup with her everywhere.

Little did I know that the finish line would be 3 1/2 hours later in the middle of meeting the new baby.

Yes, this means that all signs point to me planning on finishing a marathon faster than I’m able to consume 32 ounces of coffee without becoming violently ill.

By the time that I put the second cup in the bin, I was  walking circus.  In writing terms, I was 100% stream of consciousness.  Which was all right and good, I guess.  I say this with the full knowledge that I couldn’t hold a conversation for more than two minutes at a time because EVERYTHING WAS JUST SO INTERESTING.

Her hair.  That wallpaper.  Is that a crumb on his shirt?  Our waiter’s glasses.  I didn’t know they made focaccia here.  Why are we all drinking water out of tiny cups?

Our world is an endlessly fascinating place, kittens.

The biggest surprise of the day?  When I hit the wall at 11 PM, I slept like an absolute rock.  Go figure.

Do they sell the Trenta where you live?

Are you a coffee drinker?  How much coffee do you drink on a daily basis?

In all seriousness, total jankiness aside, the fun-sized coffee pot I had from my freshman year of college was absolutely perfect for me because Marcus doesn’t drink coffee and I can’t drink a ton of it.

P.S. If you didn’t click on their names earlier in the post, click here to read Kirsten and Megan’s experiences doing battle against the Trenta!