OK, sooo....

We're planning travel to the UK next summer. Tonight, I started by looking at places to stay in Edinburgh. Above, part of a listing on VRBO.

Obviously, it's just a typo. But when you read it in a Scottish accent...it's kind of funny.

Weather Update

Because you needed to know: yesterday (for the record: June 17) it rained.

And by rained I mean poured.

Now, those of you who live in southern areas are all, "So what?"

Yeah.

Temps dropped from the high 80s to 49 degrees. Forty-nine. Later, after lunch, a heat wave spiked that mercury to 57. Woot!

And this morning it's 47. Sunny and gorgeous but COLD. On June 18!

[Charles's birthday, I should add.]

Harvest

Above, Larry being Larry. In other words, checking his phone at dinner. Probably linking to stuff on Facebook. He does that.
 

But where were we? At Harvest, of course. On our first "dine out" night (translation: DON'T EAT THE FISH!) (Actually, the AP likes to give the food service people a break twice during the reading. They don't make dinner and we all go out to eat.) we visited Proof on Main again. I tried moonshine. It was great (tasted like butter) (the definition of "great")(I am using a lot of parentheses tonight).

On our second "dine out" night we took the downtown trolley to Harvest, a farm-to-table restaurant in the NuLu neighborhood. It's cute - Louisville's own teensy little Brooklyn.

The cocktail above? A Kentucky Champagne. Ale 8 (nectar of the Gods) plus bourbon plus a twist. Quite tasty! Before that Larry and I revisited our affectionate regard for Eagle Rare bourbon.

If you happen to be in Louisville, Harvest is pretty good. The meat platter (all kinds of BBQ-ish stuff), the fried chicken, the steak. It's all good. The grits are weird. Don't order those. Also, if you sit at the crazy table made of a slice of tree, watch your drink. The table isn't flat so your cocktail might just...slide right off into your lap.

Didn't happen to me, of course. But only because a nimble-fingered waitress dipped her knees as she passed and caught the darn thing. 

The River

The AP US reading meets in Louisville every June. The hotels sit at the tippiest tip of the city, along the Ohio River.

Too bad we spend so little time outdoors. Or, really, anywhere you might notice the view.

Oh, Louisville. Really?

 Cake.

And pie.

 And cake.

And ice cream.

These are the kinds of things the AP reading forces upon me. This, after a meal at Four Pegs. And by meal, I mean a burger with cheese and flash-fried edamame (mmm...chili oil) and fried green tomatoes. Also, beer.

The kid said, "How about some pie and ice cream?" and who can say no to a precocious child just entering his second decade of life? Who?

So we went to a place named Homemade Pie and Ice Cream. Because truth in advertising. As they say in Kentucky, "I ain't gone lie" it was awesome. I didn't know what to do. But you know - keep calm and all that. I had some ice cream.

And then I stumbled home in a bilious fog, feeling (as I told Larry) that I was eight months pregnant with a burger baby.

Creepy

Housekeeping came by. Made the bed. Tidied up the towels. And arranged all of my toiletries in this little vignette. It's oddly precise. The stuff below was all lined up in perfect strips.

I might need to put out the Do Not Disturb sign tomorrow. Because...I'm not entirely comfortable with this level of attention.

In other news: let's say you open a booklet and read this:

Sometimes, I like to rub myself with Vaseline all over and pretend I'm a slug.

And then he wrote:

I hope that made you feel better. 

 It did not. Now, in fact, I'm freaked out. 

Cher

You read that right. Cher performs tonight at the KFC/Yum Brands arena. We couldn't face the "tilapia" dinner (advice to anyone who ever grades an AP exam: do not eat the fish. Under no circumstances should you eat the fish.). So we strolled down the street to a pizza/bar sorta place.

First of all, you know I chatted up the hostess. She's engaged, using her grandmother's ring until she can afford one because she's 6 months pregnant (it's a boy, they're naming him Hunter) and buying a house. So, you know, wedding plans and a new ring will wait until she can manage that.

Second of all, check out the wildlife:

That's right. about 20 women in their 40s/50s wearing Cher wigs. And sequins. Drinking. Preening (the fake hair requires lots of stroking). Giggling. Taking selfies.

The people in the booth next to us posed for photos with them. Because when will you see this again? Never.

I graded 300 exams today. My 2-day total: 500. Bring it, question 4.