Road Trip

My mother and I had an excellent road trip to Texas. We saw lots of interesting sights, spent a day in Memphis, Tennessee, and got to see scenic and delightful Fort Hood, Texas, where PFC Sibling is stationed.

Unfortunately, I only took pictures in Memphis.

To be fair, the best road signs were observed at unholy hours of the morning, and stopping to photograph them would not have been advisable. My favorite sign was somewhere in Connecticut and advertised the State Veteran's Home and Dinosaur Park.

The first day, we drove from New Hampshire to Roanoake, Virginia. And when we found a hotel where, praise Jesus, they let us check in early, we immediately sacked out for a couple of hours. The next day we drove from Roanoake to Memphis, where we checked in to the Heartbreak Hotel. That, my friends, was a rather surreal experience.

We could see the pool from our window:

DSCF0046.JPG


And we had pictures of The King in our room:

DSCF0048.JPG
DSCF0050.JPG


We had a sandwich and a beer in the Jungle Room Lounge downstairs. They play Elvis concert footage from 3:00-11:00, and there's a sign informing guests that, while they might want to watch Elvis concerts all night, other guests need their rest for their big Elvis plans the next day.

Mom and I went to bed on the early side rather than watch the 24-hour Elvis movie channel so that we could be well-rested for our Elvis plans.

We went to Graceland:

DSCF0055.JPG


You can take pictures at Graceland, but you're not allowed to use flash photography. Most of my inside pictures, therefore, are crap. Graceland was interesting, and I learned a lot about Elvis, but in some ways it seemed, well, small. I've been to McMansions that are larger. But they didn't have green shag carpet on the walls and ceiling.

And they certainly didn't have this many gold records:

DSCF0086.JPG
DSCF0085.JPG


Or awesome jumpsuits:

DSCF0097.JPG
DSCF0096.JPG


We saw Elvis' grave:

DSCF0102.JPG


And then we decided that we had had enough Elvis, so we found another hotel.

We ended up at the Westin Memphis Beale Street Hotel. It's located right behind Beale Street, which is the most visited destination in Tennessee. The location was to die for and the hotel was wonderful. In fact, I hope that when I die, Heaven is like a luxury hotel.

Mom and I ate Barbecue on Beale Street at the Blues City Cafe. It was, quite possibly, the best barbecue I have ever eaten in my life. But don't tell my father-in-law. Or my husband. We also went to the Gibson Guitar factory, which was right across the street from our hotel. The tour is fascinating. I highly recommend it.

Gibson Tour


After the Gibson Tour, we went across the street to the Museum of Rock & Soul. It's a Smithsonian project, and the exhibits are interesting. But, alas, they don't allow you to take pictures. So I can only tell you about Isaac Hayes' mink coats and his diamond and emerald piano watch. The tour is a self-paced audio tour, and includes lots of music. It was well done, but by this point, we were getting tired. So we went back up to Beale Street where you can't spit without hitting a blues musician.

DSCF0135.JPG


That was in W.C. Handy park. We listened to the band for a little while, then decided it was time for a drink. Now, Beale Street looks to be a non-stop party. You can get your drinks to go. We saw signs that said things like, Caution, 30 feet till next cocktail and adverts for 100 ounce Hurricanes (Save Money! Share with your friends!) We went to B.B. King's bar and had a couple of girly drinks. (I had a Stagger Lee. It was blue. Mom had a Lucille. It was green.) By that point, it was about time to think of dinner. And, since we had had our barbecue earlier in the day, we ended up having dinner at the hotel. Which was excellent.

The next morning, we got up and drove the rest of the way to Texas. The only notable occurrence was lunch at a Chic-fil-a in Texarkana. We don't have Chic-fil-a up here. And, you know? It's a shame. That is a mighty fine chicken sandwich.

We got to scenic Killeen, Texas at about 5:30, checked into the hotel, got a guest pass for the Army Post, and picked up my sister. She was happy to see her car. And us, too, I suppose. Unfortunately, the Army hasn't sped her up at all. By the time we saw her I was very ready for dinner. But, alas, that took a while. Mostly, because she came down to meet us in uniform, and we didn't really need to go out to dinner all dressed up Army-like.

We went out for steak, and had a nice meal. Then, we spent the next day running errands with the PFC Sibling, which, while not the most exciting thing ever, was fun and needed doing. We got to explore the post which has streets with names like Tank Destroyer Blvd. Air Force bases have much tamer street names. At least the bases we lived on growing up.

And then, we came back. It was a long, hectic week, but lots of fun. I hope to go back to Memphis with The Beloved at some point. I think he'd really enjoy it. I'm still really tired, but have discovered that's not due to the trip but something else entirely, so, we're dealing. The fact that summer is rearing its ugly head isn't helping my mood any, but my sainted husband appears to have gotten our air conditioner to work at least a little bit. God bless him.

Anyhow. More to follow as I have the energy. I've done a little knitting, when I have the energy and finished off a pair of wee socks and started the Child's French Socks, though I may redo the (completed) foot on one as it's just a smidge too short. Unfortunately, no photos right now and I'm too lazy to pull out knitting and cameras. Next week, perhaps?

And....we're back!

To tell the truth, we've been home since late Saturday night/early Sunday morning. But I've been recovering...er...reacclimating from my vacation. There's still more laundry to do before going back to work tomorrow, but I'm taking it slow. OK. I'm enjoying my last day of freedom before getting back to my (albeit greatly reduced) work schedule.

But, before I return to the fast-paced world of library-consulting, let me show you what The Beloved and I were up to! On Tuesday last, we flew out of NH and landed ourselves at O'Hare airport in Chicago. We stayed outside of the city in the Chicagoland area in Bloomingdale at the Indian Lakes Resort. To get there and back again, we rented a car. The Beloved was good enough to drive, mostly because he forgot to add my name to the paperwork and I refused to drive in case something happened and we weren't covered.

Here he is in our PT Cruiser. Isn't he cute? The car was kinda fun. We're going to have to buy another car at some point in the near future, and we'd like one with back doors. This has a huge gas tank and appears to get decent mileage.

So. The hotel. The hotel was nice, but it was absolutely empty when we got there! I suppose that's what happens when you start vacation on Tuesday. It was decorated in a sort of arts-and-crafts-Frank-Lloyd-Wright sort of ways. Except for the cave in the middle of the lobby. Seriously! A cave! And not just any sort of cave--a cave bar. We were intrigued, so we went for drinks. Very expensive drinks. With very little alcohol. And snacks. Which were also expensive. The cave bar was not, actually, our favorite place. In fact, I think it was the only time during the trip we felt ripped off. Fortunately, we got that out of the way early. Anyway--what it lacked in food or drink quality, it made up for in ambiance:

Our room was nice. But, again...weird. The arts-and-crafts theme continued, it was spacious (we had two beds, which seemed a little excessive, but The Beloved made the reservations), and the bathroom was very large. However, it didn't have a coffee maker. For normal people, this might not present a problem. For me, it was next to tragic. Even more confusing? There were coffee pods in the bathroom, along with cream and sugar packets. It was like they were toying with me.

But they did have pretty things on the ceiling. Look!

And that, my friends, was day one of our vacation.

On day two we met up with R & M at the Art Institute of Chicago. I loved it. The Beloved was bored. But he humored me. We saw American Gothic and Sunday Afternoon on La Grande Jatte. The Art Institute also has a fantastic Monet collection. We saw lots of haystacks. And some water lilies. They were lovely as well. The Beloved was pissy because we didn't see any Rembrandt or Vermeer. He likes Dutch Masters. Poor boy.

I thought he might like some modern art and sculpture. So we went and saw The Bean, or The Big Shiny Thing in Millennium Park.

Apparently, it's actually called Cloud Gate. It's seriously one of the weirdest things I've ever seen. Unfortunately, it still wasn't a Dutch Master and The Beloved was still grouchy. There was only one thing to do--let him pick dinner.

We went to the Exchequer Pub, which was a few blocks away, right in the Loop. It may have been a Speakeasy when the first restaurant was established at that location during the 1920s. It was also frequented by none other than Al Capone. Oh--and they are said to have the best deep dish pizza in the Loop. Guess what we ordered!


And beer. The Exchequer Ale is quite good. We drank plenty of it.

Day three found us back downtown--this time at Navy Pier. It's kind of like Hampton Beach. Only the guys don't seem quite so sleazy. We walked around and looked at things and took pictures of the city from the pier. Then we met up with R & M for drinks. The Beloved was hot and grumpy, so we bought him a baseball cap to protect his head from sunburn. I should have done something to protect myself, but, well, it isn't vacation until you've got a sunburn, right?

We all went on the Ferris Wheel.

Nothing impresses The Beloved.

Not even the view. Well. He may have enjoyed the view a little.

I sure did. Plus, we got to see R & M be nauseatingly cute.

After the Ferris Wheel, The Beloved decided he was ready to venture out of downtown. He had read about a pub he really wanted to visit. Who cares that it was 3:00 on Thursday afternoon--that's a perfectly acceptable time to visit a pub if you're vacationing! So off we went to the Lincoln Park area and tracked down The Red Lion Pub. The pub is very English in decor, beers on tap, and menu. It's also rumored to be the most haunted bar in Chicago. All we saw was a crazy patron who spent a fair amount of time mumbling at us from the bar, introduced himself to The Beloved and R, and told me and M that we looked strung out. Although, when we got to the next bar (yes, it was a productive afternoon), I found my camera was broken! Poltergeists at work? Who knows.... (we fixed the camera with a little packing tape).

It was still early for dinner, so we decided to hit another bar in the area. North Lincoln has plenty from which to choose. I have no idea where we ended up, but they had pool tables.

We spent the rest of the afternoon there. I am an abysmal pool player. Pathetically bad. Thus the much maligned look on The Beloved's face as he was saddled with me. He apparently forgot that part of our wedding vows.

After several beers (or scotches if you were R), we closed out and went back downtown to 17/West at The Berghoff for German food. It was excellent. Unfortunately, we had already consumed so much crap that no one was particularly hungry. It was right about here that I realized we no longer had the bag of souvenirs. I don't know if we left it at the bar with the pool tables or if we left it in a cab. Only that it was gone. And I was a little bit pissed. So, it was time to call it a night.

The Beloved and I went back to Bloomingdale and R & M went back to Joliet. They had to get ready for R's parent's gala boating party on Saturday, which we, regrettably, had to miss so as we could come back home. It was still relatively early when we got back to the hotel, so we went to a movie--Live Free or Die Hard. It was much better than I expected it to be. Highly enjoyable.

Our last day there, we stayed in Bloomingdale. We ate a sandwich and then went to see another movie--this time we saw 1408. Also good. Surprisingly scary. After the movie we went back to the hotel to get ready for dinner. We went to Tapas Valencia. Dude--I don't know why this place isn't packed all the time. It was seriously some of the best food I have ever consumed. The Beloved and I are converts. Tapas is the best ever. I don't think we have any in the area (if I'm wrong, please let me know), so I'm going to have to track down some fabulous Spanish recipes and host my own Tapas parties.

After that fine food, there was only one way to cap off the evening...back to the movie theater to check out Ratatouille! Another fine film. And a fine way to end our vacation. The next day was utterly eaten up with travel back east--including a fun bout of airport hell in not one, but two airports! I got more knitting done during the return trip than was accomplished the rest of the week. Here's the sock at National Airport. It's hard to see, but the Washington Monument is in the background. Seriously!

The sock did, in fact, go everywhere I did on vacation. I just rarely took it out to work on it. I was too busy drinking beer. And taking pictures. And playing. But I finished it just the same. Yesterday. But, I feel like this post is awful full, so I'll tell you all about it and show it off tomorrow.

We had a fun vacation, but man...it's good to be home!

Just Call Me The Bag Lady

Several weeks ago I ordered a couple of bags from Heather over at LuluBelle Custom Handbags. Well, they have arrived! I couldn't be happier with them. Behold, the Little Lulu:

And inside:

And the Lauren:

And inside:

The handbags are handmade. Select your own exterior and interior fabrics, choose from fabric or bamboo handles, choose between snap and ribbon closures. The products are gorgeous. I'm very, very happy with my purchases and will likely buy more of her stuff in the future. In fact, the Lauren will be coming to Chicago with me. Did you see the pockets on the inside? It's a nice, roomy bag that will comfortably hold my wallet, sunglasses, iPod, camera, the guidebook, the gallon-sized plastic bag for hand lotion and lip gloss, a novel or magazine for myself, one for The Beloved, his XM radio/MP3 player, and a partridge in a pear tree. Oh--and this:

The GoKnit Pouch which I bought over at Scout's Swag. She has awesome color choices and wicked fast shipping. Now my sock will be safe and I won't have to worry about runaway yarn on the airplane! Anyway, since Lauren is so roomy, I don't think I'll need a separate carry-on for the flight. Which is good, because I never have enough room with a carry-on and a purse. I'll pack another carry-on bag in our checked baggage in case we (hopefully) go shopping and buy stuff on vacation and need something in which to transport our loot back to New Hampshire.

Anyway. Here's some food for thought: Why does vacation begin with the Spanish word for cow? That deep thought is brought to you care of The Beloved. Enjoy.

Vacation!

The Beloved and I are actually going on vacation this year! Like, we will leave the great State of New Hampshire. We will even leave New England. We're going out to Chicagoland for five days. Why Chicago, you ask? Well, because The Beloved has never been there. And because we have a dear friend who lives in Joliet, IL. No, not in the prison, you naughty children. He bought a house there several years ago and every year comes out to spend a weekend with us. Every year he asks, "When are you going to come out my way." And every year we say something nebulous like, "Oh, soon...."

Last year, I decided enough was enough. My poor friend. I feel awful. So I told him, "Next year. We will come to Chicago at some point in the next year." The Beloved didn't believe I was serious. So I decided that if my darling spouse did not want to come to Illinois with me, I would go alone. Good Lord, I lived in two foreign countries before I married him--I was certainly capable of putting myself on an airplane to spend a long weekend in the Midwest. Well. The Beloved liked this idea even less. "You're leaving me to have an affair! You want to have an affair with him!" Nooooo. I've know him longer than I've known you, sweetie. Think about it for a second. Besides, I really didn't want to go alone--I wanted my husband to get on the stick and come with me!!

Well. Something worked, because we're going.

The last vacation The Beloved and I took was about five years ago. We went to Montreal and Quebec City on our honeymoon. While we've taken time off from work since that time, we've never actually managed a "trip." There are several excuses here: We bought a house, so there's no money; I changed jobs; The Beloved's job is crazy and he has a hard time leaving it behind. Plus, I've recently intuited that The Beloved doesn't like airplanes. I don't know if he's always hated planes or if this is a post-September-11-sort-of-phenomenon. How did I discover this delightful little tidbit? When he asked how long it would take us to drive to Chicago. Hmmmm. I don't think so. Perhaps I can give him half a Valium prior to boarding and he won't even know we got on an airplane.

We also don't tend to do things halfway. If we're going on vacation, dammit, we are going on vacation. This trip does not seem to be an exception. While we are flying coach, we will be renting a car and staying at the Indian Lakes Resort in Bloomingdale--about a half-hour's drive from O'Hare and about 50 minutes away from Joliet. There will be no Holiday Inn for us, apparently. I'm not complaining--if vacation only comes once every five years, I'll take what I can get. The resort features two (2) golf courses (I don't play, but I believe The Beloved once golfed in a former lifetime), a tennis court, an indoor and outdoor pool, two restaurants, two bars and a spa. Now we're talking vacation. I'm wondering if I can convince him to set me up with one of these packages. Hmmm. Well, if he's going to golf, I have to do something.

And, naturally, we will go see my friend. My friend for whom I am supposed to be diligently knitting one of the afghans that is sitting in the corner and gazing at me dolefully from time to time. I should have something done to show him, but I'm just not happy with the pattern I've chosen, which leaves me with the eternal question: To Rip, or Not to Rip? Should I just suck it up and make the damned afghan, or should I start over and try to find a pattern that is perhaps more aesthetically pleasing? Or should I just ignore the blasted thing entirely and work on the baby shawl? That last option is looking more and more likely....Ah, me....

I suppose it all depends on how much luggage we bring and what goes in my carry-on bag. No, I'm not planning on bringing the afghan on the plane with me, although it's always a possibility. I think the last thing I knit on a flight was a baby blanket....but that was before I discovered socks. But I am realizing that I don't have a proper Big Bag to use for my carry-on...and to haul my crap around Chicago and Joliet while The Beloved and I practice being tourists. Do any of you have favorite Big Bags or traveling bags that you'd recommend? It needs to fit the following: A sweater; my camera; my iPod; at least one book; at least one knitting project (likely socks); wallet; sunglasses; etc. I'm thinking it might be time to spring for a Lulu Belle Bag, but am being wishy-washy. However, I have to make up my mind soon, if I want a bag here before we leave on vacation....it only looks like I'm counting the days. Really.

Like us on Facebook

Flickr Images