In the extra weird state of my head over the weekend, I thought a drive might assist me in my effort to get some of the air out of my skull. I said to Suzanne, “Hey, let’s go to Evanston for Sunday brunch.” I could say that to her every weekend and she’d be game for it. In Evanston, we eat only at the Gateway Grille at the Purple Sage Golf Course. Suzanne’s brother, James, is owner and chef at the restaurant, which is in the course’s clubhouse.
James is a swell chap, and he always gives me permission to steal pastries on the way out the door. This time, in fact, James’ son, MacGregor (who works for his dad there), came out of the kitchen with a “doggie box” full of pastries for me to take back home. I didn’t have to steal ’em! And you know what? The pastries I was so freely given were almost as yummy as when I steal them. (Forbidden fruit, forbidden pastries– you know what I’m saying.)
Buckin’ bronco Tie o’ the Day was a fitting choice to wear for a day-trip to Wyoming. And of course, when you’re in Evanston (even on the Sabbath), one really must make a stop at a liquor store to buy a few lottery tickets.
It’s not a problem for me (drunk that I used to be) to saunter into a liquor store. It doesn’t tempt me. To me, liquor stores are just more sights to see. I would not want to miss the treasures that haunt any and every liquor store, anywhere. For example, my life would be less full if I had not seen this amazing bottle of SILVER SPUR JALAPENO BACON FLAVORED VODKA. I’m sure your life is also fuller now that you’ve merely seen the photo of it. I bet you’ll tell at least one person about its hideous flavor, and you’ll both have a chuckle. Everybody’ll be better off, just cuz I walked into a liquor store. This post will have done its job for the day.
The ABSENTE absinthe box decked out with Van Gogh’s likeness is a dandy gem too. Yup, it made my life fuller just to gaze upon it, just like seeing the vodka flavor. I liked the fancy box so much I’ll probably visit it next time I steal pastries from my brother-in law’s dining establishment.
BTW The Saddle Purse was with me all the way to and from Evanston. How could I not take a saddle of any ilk to Wyoming?