Summer Snaps

While it seemed the month of January lasted 100 days earlier this year, how in the fuck is it now the middle of June? Bananas.

I’ve taken a slide down the regression train the last two months in regard to Rapegate and its aftermath full of PTSD and what not but – BUT with the help of my family, friends and fur balls, my wheels are still on the track, although daily WD40 is required at this point. Here’s what kept me moving and grooving…

Sometimes all you need are ladies who help keep your crown held high. And wine. Lots and lots of wine.

A night in with laughs, snacks and shenanigans.

I decided to get CPR certified, so maybe when I’m having my own panic attacks I can calm myself the fuck down (just kidding…only chewing on Xanax and getting on all fours does the trick for me). When we were practicing chest compressions on our dummies, the instructor asked who I was mad at…angry much? Yes, I believe I will be taking up kick boxing or kung fu in the near future.

It was the shit watching Nashville’s NHL hockey team, the Predators make their second appearance in the Stanley Cup playoffs, complete with watch parties.

Fang Fingers!

While they didn’t make it to the end, it was a season full of fun with reasons to partake in cocktails whether they won or lost.

Reasons for seasons.

There’s always reminders that I need to stop and smell the roses lilacs, compliments of my Princess B. She knows what’s up.

She reminds me that I always have time to stop and smell the wine.

Not drinking alone if your cats are home.

Or your chug.

Summer sports are in full swing and I think I have a sports star in the making with Prince B.

Sports stud on the rise.

I don’t know if Prince B could do it without the support from his sister, who clearly only comes to his games to watch.

Cheerleading at its finest.

You wanna know what else is a ‘holy fuck?!’ moment? My Iowa twins graduated Pre-K. We have official kindergarteners on ours hands people.

First and last day pics.

As soon as the summer vacation commenced, these two were on it full speed ahead.

Vacay the right way.

Oh and my tender-hearted nephew is about to melt your heart. Even if its dead and cold. He recently shaved his head because he wanted matching ‘dos with his dad.

Like father, like son.

In other happy news, my dophew, Spike, celebrated his third trip around the sun.

Spike with his fave kind of bone.

And in possibly the best news yet, the mini manse’s pool opened.

Summer hydration IV.

Rasta and I celebrated our one year anniversary – we met at the pool last year. Awe.

Alcohol and Bad Decisions.

More happiness with my fabulous stylist who not only is one of my besties but makes me laugh AND makes my hair dreams come true.

He does the hair. I provide the accessories.

 

The pink glitter cup he gifted me left me with surprises in my pie hole.

Sequin tooth in place. Does this give me street cred?

Bird Lady and I found a new bar, Firefly Bar and Grille, where I want to move in as they have their Christmas lights up all year long inside. Better yet, when one strand burns out, they leave it up and just put new ones over the old strand. Be still my beating heart.

Firefly and feeling fine.

When my gal pal from college came in, we shut that damn bar down while showing off our jazz hands we perfected in our collegiate show choir. Yep. We were cool like that.

Jazz hands still on point.

There have been many a Friday night where I want to stay in and get wild with organization. But this keeps happening…

So I catch up on how to murder people without getting caught. Don’t piss me off.

I’m also happy to report that Nashville is finally joining the 1980s and offering wine on Sundays now. We still can’t purchase liquor but I’ll settle for Jesus juice.

Miracles do come true.

Speaking of miracles, my loudmouth was allowed on a golf course to play a bit of put-put (or as real golfers call it, golf) while also delivering snacks and booze. All for a fabulous cause – Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt. Over $300,000 was raised for the kids.

Koozies make the best earrings.

When they told me to stock up the cart with snacks, I pretended I was on Supermarket Sweep and took just about everything in sight.

Griswolds of the golf course.

Roaming around on the golf course are sheep and being the animal lover I am, I wanted to take one home. But I settled for a photo instead, where they look like white blobs behind a big slob.

The famous sheep with a gigantic asshat.

In other famous news, Princess B got all dolled up for her second recital. And while I am very proud of her, I am also beyond jealous of her costume and am considering an extreme diet so I can squeeze my ample rear end into it.

Dancing Queen

Since she supported her brother in baseball, it was only fair he happily did the same…complete with the proper dance picture pose.

Hands on hips.

I used to be an avid jogger. My bed seems so much better these days, yet, First Mate got me out of my shell and coaxed me into participating in a Coconut RAD (Random Ass Distance) Run. Rasta was so moved, she made us a support poster.

The only way I will run anymore is if I can also hold booze.

One size fits “most”…uh, yeah, right.

While we were far from first place, we were also far from last. And, we couldn’t say no to rum in our coconuts.

Middle of the pack finishers!

No better way to cool off than a party day with Dada CBXB.

Race day cool down.

Suns Out, Buns Out.

I took one for the team, rounding up my dad’s ginormous sandals when it was time to leave.

You all know how much I love my fur balls and one in particular is having some issues. Precious the chug passed out yesterday on the way out for a walk. She’s been to the vet and had tests done, so please send your good juju her way.

Hopeful to get some pep back in her pitiful step.

That, my friends is a long winded catch up. The many reasons I have to smile has everything to do with you.

Thank you.

XOXO

CBXB

CBXB!

 

 

White Trash Winery

How do you roll at Nashville winery Arrington Vineyards, owned by Kix Brooks – half of the Brooks and Dunn country duo?

Do as the Tennesseans do!

Take pictures upon your arrival to the vineyard, so you have proof you were there.

We're heeeeere!

We’re heeeeere!

Stalk the country music artist owner to get your picture taken and then don’t smile because you want to act like it’s no big deal.

My Dad and Kix Brooks. New BFFs (only he Kis doesn't know it).

New BFFs (only Kix doesn’t know it yet).

Bring your own food into the winery to enjoy while sipping (well, you’re supposed to sip but I like to guzzle) wine.  Being that we are transplants from Iowa, we’re Midwesterners and (otherwise referred to as Yankees in the South – because people here tend to forget the Civil War ended 140+ years ago) we are very no nonsense about our table and how we arrange our snacks.

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Nothing fancy for us.

It seems Southerners on the other hand are a tad more uppity with their dining decor. Our table neighbors had a pressed table cloth to feature the same store bought food.

Classing it up with a table cloth

Why go to all of the trouble? The chips taste the same with or without the table cloth.

Paper napkins are a must at a winery! If you have one too many people show up, you can always add additional napkins quickly by ripping in half.

Half Nap

Not enough napkins? No worries!

Paper napkins also double as photo shields when you’re trying to hide from your camera happy daughter.

Photo Shield

Too fancy for photos.

Don’t bother bringing plates for your snacks, either.

No Plates

No plates? No problem! Just use the dip lid for crackers.

Plus, with low maintenance food, cleaning up is a snap.

Trash Compactor

Stack and throw!

In case you didn’t have time to give yourself a proper manicure, don’t worry. Just whip your scissors out at a table and proceed like you’re in the comforts of your own home. It’s not trashy at all.

Mani Time!

Do as the Tennesseans do. Clip your nails at the table.

As for Southern winery attire, you can go one of two ways.

Shiny sequins are more than appropriate, of course.

Or you can choose the more comfortable route…

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And wear your finest sweatshirt.

A heavy handed pour helps empty Arrington wine bottles with swift ease.

Full Pour, Please

I’ll take the last drop, thanks.

But if you’re really worried about getting all of the wine (like me), just drink from the bottle. Totally acceptable.

NO WASTING!

Wine. A terrible thing to waste.

What winery visit would be complete without a photo bomb?

Facebook Profile

Dad wanted an updated photo for his Facebook profile…too bad!

After all of the chugging and glugging, you’ll find it hard to leave. I got rather attached to a big, shiny tree on my way out.

Tree Hugger

I only hug trees when I wine.

I don’t know how they do it in Napa wineries but South of the Mason Dixon Line, we’re nothing but trashy class, Baby.

And proud of it.

CBXB