Weekend Winks – Gizzards, Griswolds and Gaming

Over the river and through the woods to the mini manse they came…

So, I haven’t ever cooked a turkey (or mowed a lawn, washed dishes without rubber gloves, changed a dirty diaper… because you know, my nails are jewels, not tools) but my friend Rasta decided to bake a bird for the Thanksgiving holiday, as she wasn’t traveling back to New York. I had family from Iowa coming into Nashville, she was kind enough to invite us over and it was a Griswolds meets the Iowa Hillbillies meets City Chic. In other words, the best kind of holiday mash-up.

I’ll let you guess which is which.

I went to help prep the evening before and basically sat on my ample derriere washing the evening away with wine, BUT I did help with snapping green beans, K?

Being a sous chef is hard work.

Upon my return to the mini manse, I called Mama CBXB no less than 31 times in 25 minutes because I was attempting my first casserole with a whopping six ingredients.

What’s a ¼ lb. of cheese?

Do you drain the corn or leave the juice in it?

What’s a ¼ lb. of butter look like?

And voila!

Corn and noodle casserole was a hit.

OK, I may have eaten half of it but still, a success.

Rasta baked her tail off, as I supplied a cases of much-needed vino.

My contributions.

Rasta stirring up a storm in her kitchen.

Upon completion of the bird baking, no one in the place had ever before carved a turkey.

How many peeps does it take to carve a turkey?

The bird got divvied, the casserole was a hit and Precious the chug may have had the tryptophan kick in earlier than the rest of us.

Tired turkey.

Friday, after shaking off our turkey comas, we headed down to Bailey’s Irish Pub to join another 125 Hawkeye fans to cheer on our fave team for the last game of the year.

Hey-oh! Hawkeye time!

The outcome of the game looked rather bleak at halftime with the score being tied at 14-14 (and as the Hawks basically rolled over and died their last two games, it was anyone’s guess as to who would win). But, in the third and fourth quarters, Iowa scored an unanswered 42 points, leaving us with a winning 56-14 score.

Somewhere between shots one and four…

… and somewhere between shots five and eight.

Of course each and every time the Hawks scored, I had to Facetime Dada CBXB who was up in Iowa visiting the twins.

I can’t hear you but drink!

What do you do after a victorious beat down? Celebrate, naturally. We headed to Robert’s Western World for some of the best old school honky tonkin’ around.

Showing G’Lee a fun old-fashioned country time.

Enjoying the holiday leftovers in Iowa, my BIL was showing off his doughing skills, making turkey and gravy pizza.

Dough master.

No one was upset about the use of leftovers.

Of course, the second the clock struck 12:01 am the day after Thanksgiving, the twins were ready for Christmas. And the decorating commenced.

Tree trimming.

Old school advent calendar.

While the mini manse residents are still recuperating from the shenanigans – surely, it’s just a turkey hangover.

Snuggle train still ongoing.

A day of Hallmark holiday movies and moving from one side of the couch to the other worked wonders for us.

Working our wind down with wine. Duh.

Here’s hoping your well on your way out of a gravy coma.

CBXB

Weekend Winks – Puss ‘n’ Boots

Nashville shenanigans this past weekend included patio party fun, pool time and a little boot scootin’ boogie downtown.

Weekend!

It’s the weekend, let’s drink!

Setting the festive mood in celebration of the much anticipated weekend, the patio party lights came on as soon as I walked through my mini manse door Friday evening.

Party time!

Lights, cocktails, action!

But even with the combination of music, spirits and conversation, there was nothing that could keep Teddy’s head up.

Weekend!

Pooped pussy.

I took Mr. Bear’s cue for a low-key evening and rested up because there was some honky tonkin’ to do on Saturday.

Neon

Bright lights in Music City.

Robert’s Western World awaited our rowdy bunch as we tried to strong-arm our way to the front row to see my fave band on Lower Broad – The Don Kelly Band (seriously the best band gaining all kinds of momentum with their 19-year-old guitar player who kicks all kinds of ass. Yes, I want to be his cougar. Meow).

The Don Kelly Band

My cougar cub Daniel Donato, Don Kelly and Joe Fick.

In our entourage, my mom and I had top tiered choices of companions.

Not one...

Not one…

Not two...

Not two…

Date three..

But three hot dates.

Turns out it was a good thing all of my dates already know and love me, because I morphed into a truck driver when it came time to eat a burger basket.

Stuff

Face stuffing at its finest.

Rings off.

Serious burger eating business with all jewelry off.

Eating contest. I won.

Eating off. I won.

While I was busy perusing the bottom of everyone’s baskets for morsels of leftover french fries, my dad acted like he was with the Grand Poobah of Robert’s Western World sitting front and center, as if the band was performing for a party of one.

Him.

Two beers, please. Make them PBRs.

Two beers, please. Make them PBRs and if you don’t have that, Natty Light.

Being that it’s CMA Festival time (formerly known as Fan Fair) the downtown scene was packed with folks arriving for the events starting over the weekend. One of the fans in town for festivities was a sweet red head who told me that she wanted to emulate me – especially my hair.

I want to emulate you. I want your rack.

I’ll trade my hair for her rack.

Another lively duo we ran into were from somewhere overseas with accents so thick I could only understand that they were drunk.

Australian? Scottish? English? Talk Accent to Me.

Australian? Scottish? English? Talk accent to me.

The self-appointed Mayor of Robert’s got crafty with his photo taking skills, using the reverse camera feature to snap pics of himself and my mom.

Only problem was he left out Mom.

Selfie minus mom.

The one and a half shot.

Remember Daniel, the swashbuckling young guitar virtuoso? Well, after The Don Kelly Band’s set, he came over and asked if I was on Instagram (@cowboysandcrossbones) because I look familiar.

*BE STILL MY BEATING HEART*

I told him I do stalk follow him on Instagram and naturally had to capture the moment of recognition with a photo.

Who me?

The cougar and the cub.

On our way to the car, we couldn’t help but notice all of the fashionistas hitting the streets for CMA Week.

Lovely fashion kicking off CMA Week.

Capri jeans with cowboy boots? Yeehaw.

I got a little chummy with Elvis and almost missed my ride home.

Hunka Hunka...

Hunka…Hunka…

Upon our arrival back at my mini manse, my dad decided it would be a good idea to take wapatoolie shots.

What’s in a wapatoolie shot you ask? Anything you damn well please mixed altogether for the drinking pleasure of an unassuming shot taker.

Wapatoolie time!

My Wapatoolie ingredients!

Concocting....

A witch with her brew…

All cheers

…serving her finest to an unsuspecting crew…

Rest of the night blurry.

…and the rest of their night was blurry.

Smart girls like me stick to their Skinny Pirates so we can be unhungover and lay by the pool to waste Sunday away.

Got it done at the pool.

Got it done at the pool.

The love affair of Ted and New Cat continues – they’ve even taken their licking sessions to the front window for all of the neighbor’s viewing pleasure.

Head lock lovers.

Head lock lovers.

Tedstar was over me when I wouldn’t let him sit out on the porch by himself.

Pissed pussy

No porch for Teddy, no cute photo posing for me.

The felines must be monitored while lounging on the mini manse outdoor wing, as in this lovely plant…

Plant

One of my green thumbs works!

…are five eggs waiting to bust open with chicks.

Five birdies

Party of five.

All of the meows and incessant clawing at the porch door drove me to drink the last little bit of Sunday away.

Drives me to drink.

Slurpy Sunday.

And this weekend was good to the last drop.

Cheers!

CBXB

CBXB!