Wilmington fails to disappoint, but instead pours caramel down your ears

Wilmington Nights

Wilmington, North Carolina
January 21, 2011

Welcome to the south where we go to coffee shops to sing songs, do windmill spins, practice kung fu moves, and watch our friends impress each other. Yes we are THAT cultured. Having artistic friends has been a blessing my entire life. I have been able to watch and listen to music, art, drama, and brilliant words fly out of my friends mouths just to tickle my ears and amaze my eyes. Last night was no exception. I've known her my entire life, and some would write me off as biased, but I like to pride myself on my honesty. Honestly, I'm honest about my opinions.
Maybe even a bit critical at times, but then again I'm supposed to be reporting  travel tales from around the world, and if I'm not being honest...then why read? Seriously I wouldn't bother!
BUT lucky for you...I am honest with my thoughts on thing, so the following accounts are allllllll true. Well, except for the kung fu part...or is it??? You'll never know.

Anyways back to my best friend who happens to be a singer, songwriter, philosopher, and a cutie. She'll die when she reads this, but she cannot do anything about it! Sorry, friend.
 Gloria Spillers possesses outrageous talents that she is only recently releasing out of the closet. If you've never seen her live, your opinions are invalid. The only way to appreciate Gloria Spillers is to sit in the crowd and soak up her velvety voice, catchy lyrics, and ear tingling melodies.  Her biggest goal right now is to record. Yesterday she informed me that she felt like she was pregnant with 17 children and she was more than ready for delivery. Last night's concert proved she wasn't lying. The songs are ready, the artist is ready. All lights go. It's just getting her to the hospital or the recording room for that matter because honestly no one can record a multi-platimum record in a hospital, but I mean we could try. We could, but we wouldn't want all those heartbeats in the background...Gloria tends to be on a more morbid kick.

Last night, the Blend hosted her velvety voice alongside Jordan Sasser who is another bomb of talent all on his own. He is the kind of guy that appears in a room and things instantly get crazy. And I say that in a good way. So full of love for Jesus, Alex, and life (in that particular order), Jordan lights up a room. When he opens his mouth to sing, he STOPS the room.

I had the pleasure of arriving at the Blend, a coffee shop that caters to live music shows, just when the show was about to start. After hugging the two stars, I took my seat, grabbed a vanilla latte even though it was 8pm (so much for cutting out night caffeine), and sat back to let my ears bask in the melodious beauty. Both Jordan's and Gloria's quirkiness comes across in their acts. What musician's doesn't? Their song comments make me giggle. Gloria apologizes for taking her listeners on emotional roller coaster, and Jordan apologizes for the lyric journey. I heard no one complaining.

They both sang several original tracks, but then Gloria stopped the room when she shocked everyone by playing "Paparazzi" by the LADY GAGA. Yes, Gloria Spillers whipped out Lady Gaga, and wowed the room. Then she and Jordan did a duet of Beyonce's "Halo," and their voices melted together like chocolate and caramel - rich, smooth, velvety, and full of goodness. I'm not going to lie, I was in heaven all night.

Afterwards, Stephen and Jordan decided to turn me into a live windmill by flipping me around and around causing my hat to fall off, my head to spin, and my questioning of existence. Then we decided to have a kung fu fight which I won, btw. Fabulous times. 

At 11pm, we decided that now that our hearts and ears had been satisfied, our stomach needed to be filled as well, so we headed to Fat Tony's to devour BBQ and White Pizzas alongside bluecrab nachos. We are in the south remember. Stephen embarrassed the table by first asking the waiter if he was Fat Tony...was he implying that the guy was fat?  And then he told the waitress that he liked her shirt because it was "sequiny." Ok, Stephen, just stare at all the sparkles. Jordan and I tried to entertain the table with a dance, but my rhythm couldn't match his and ended in an epic fail on my part, but I accepted this quickly being he's a musical rhythmic genius, and I am not.

We all hugged bye in the parking lot wishing the night couldn't end, but it was 1am at this point and we all had places to be the next day.

Wilmington Nights never disappoint. I don't know if it's the whimsical, relaxed beach feeling where everything goes, or if it's the beautiful fellowship, or if it's the rockin talent that exudes from my friends, but whatever it is, it's always magical. Maybe it's because Jesus Christ is the center of the orbit. I'd bet on that one.

Tonight we are going to a Lumberton Revival...that'll be an adventure all on it's on.
~RL

the Overdue Return to the District

         I could write a book on procrastination...and about putting things off and getting things done in very very bad timelines, but then I would probably never finish because I would procrastinate the manuscript! OK! Well...cannot wallow, so time to move on.

So two months ago, I was telling you about my adventures in DC and I was hoping that the time would go by better because there wouldn't be all that white fluffy stuff on the ground. SOOOOOO what happened? I didn't get to tell you about all the luscious food I devoured and I didn't get to tell you about all the gorgeous museums I took in, so I'm trying again...I shall try again and forgive me when I get completely off base and don't finish my stories because that's not very fair to all of you. So here we go...let's rewind back to October...to a little place known as Washington, DC.  I would not recommend reading this on an empty stomach because I am about to take you to enjoy some scrumptious food. 

       So...mom and I are headed to eat some lunch at one of my favorite pizzeria's in Washington, DC. Matchbox! I heard about this place by word of mouth, and I ate here for the first time back during the apocalyptical snowstorm. I was frozen inside and out the last time I ate here, so I ordered their Fire and Smoke pizza in hopes of thawing out my frozen insides. Well, it was sooooo good that I am ordering it again right now even though I'm not trying to escape from winter's terrible hand. 

The Fire and Smoke pizza carries it's name to the finish line. Indeed it does produce fire on your palette and the smoke comes out of your nose and ears...yes, don't think about that part...just think about what's actually on this PIZZA.

Matchbox makes their dough FRESH every single morning, so the dough you devour is never old. Always fresh and always baked in their ongoing wood fire oven which delivers the favorite smoky, crispied crust. If you didn’t think that a crust could be delicious blistered and burnt, well, think again because this dough leaves an impression on your mouth that is extremely hard to forget. On top of this outrageous crust is fire roasted red peppers, blistered to perfection, spanish onions cooked just until they are sweet and tender, the devilishly delicious chipotle pepper tomato sauce which lends to much of the spiciness of this dish, garlic puree for even more of a punch in the mouth, smoked gouda for a balancing act, and a spread of shredded basil for a pop of freshness. Is your mouth watering yet? Yes, I’m drooling...and I’m not even eating it anymore. Do NOT attempt to eat this pizza without some water! I’m serious! Do not attempt because it lives up to the spicy and the smokey. My taste buds are having an absolute war as they taste. Survival mode in me is freaking out and asking why on earth, I am torturing my poor mouth with all of this heat, but they are also reveling in the flavors. They have just embarked on a magical mystery tour, and they are in no desire to return despite the crazy crazy heat. But then again...what’s that saying: ‘If you cannot stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.” Yes, darling, I can stand the heat, so I will be staying in this kitchen. 

      Now, if you don’t want something as spicy and as challenging as the fire and smoke pizza, there are other options for the fainthearted, so don’t worry. There are other things than the spicy madness. They have a wide range of pizzas, steaks, soups, salads, and seafood...so you can have your pick. I have decided to reward myself and have something extra special cool for dessert to counterbalance my spicy adventure. A GIANT icecream sandwich! Yes, you heard right. They took something that a child would eat, turned it gourmet, put it on the menu and now it’s one of the dessert bestsellers. And it’s not your little tiny chocolate chip cookies, it’s mega chocolate chips cookies sandwiching coffee gelato. Yes, coffee gelato! Do you realize what I just said??? Two cookies are sandwiching coffee gelato!! Can anyone say I’m in HEAVEN??? Yes, I am...and now its drizzled with chocolate ganache and creme anglaise...wow. My magical mystery tour is headed for the finish line, and it's definitely been a winner.

Now that mother and I have stuffed ourselves, it’s time to walk some of this off, and I cannot think of a better place to walk and wander than in a museum. DC is stuffed full of museums for everything in the known world, but today I want to visit the Air and Space Museum. I have yet to venture into this vast behemoth housing some of the most famous planes and spacecrafts in our nation’s history, and today might as well be the day to check them all out. We head towards the national mall where most of the museums of DC are housed and I snap pictures of the Capitol building to my far left. Yes, I’m a tourist, but aren’t we all at some point in our lives?

Inside the museum, I run around like a little kid snapping photos of Amelia Earhart’s plane, Howard Hughes’ plane and also the Spirit of Saint Louis which Charles Lindbergh made famous for flying across the Atlantic...aww gotta love aviation records. It's clear that this museum is a bigger hit with the boys than it is the girls by the exclamations of the teenage males pointing and gawking at the shiny planes. There are some girls here who are enjoying, there are also the mothers who are here trying to push their children towards "recreational learning," and I do see the tired teachers herding groups of children who want to go in every direction, but the one they are supposed to go in. 

There's a fantastic exhibit on the Wright Brothers who had the first successful flight in Kittyhawk, NC - one up for NC! Born and raised...just throwing that in there. There's also a great exhibit on planes from WWII which really brings the entire airforce operations in perspective. The other side of the museum is dedicated to space. I end up enthralled with a documentary about the first mission to the moon, and then I wander around awestruck at the massive crafts in front of me. I so badly want to jump in one and go to space to see that last frontier that God created. I long to somehow become a part of that creation, but space is not on my appointment books today...maybe one day.

We've run out of time here, but there's another DC adventure just around the corner...

Welcome to the District...again (no snow included this time)

Thursday October 21, 2010

Washington, D.C.

This time was going to be different. After all this was October. October and February are two completely different dragons. October radiates with red, orange, yellow, and every shade of gorgeous golden hues. February, on the other, hand is just white. White, white, white. When you're in a city like Washington, D.C., and everything is white, something is up, freakishly up. Eight months ago, I went to Washington, D.C. to visit friends, soak up the culture, devour the food, and plunge through the museums, but none of that exactly happened. Instead the snow apocalypse happened. Yes, apocalypse - no exaggeration. I mean I would consider 24inches of snow an apocalypse, wouldn't you? When you look out your hotel window and all you see is abandoned white streets...I would call that apocalyptical. I felt like an apocalypse had happened. There were the lone men wandering down the streets with their dogs, but that felt like something  out of a horror movie complete with the gray overcast sky.

Needless to say all of my D.C. plans got canceled. I ended up staring out of my window gazing at the vastness of a overpopulated city. Did I check the weather and come prepared with snow boots, gloves, and a toboggan? Umm no...because I'm outrageously intelligent and didn't think about the weather.

But that is allllllll behind me. That and the 12 times I spun out driving home back in february in my tiny mercedes-benz. Did you know that a C350 is not made to drive in the snow? Go figure! Who would have ever thought it? After that I was ready to sell it, buy a hummer and move to Miami, I was so traumatized by snow. The idea of snow repulsed me.

But that's in the past...the PAST I tell you! And now I'm going back to redeem the District in my mind.

Driving back up to DC, the scene is very different. The autumn season has taken over the scenery and the leaves are not drooping with snow, but are radiate in their various colors.

I already have a good feeling about this trip. This trip has special significance anyways. Museums, restaurants, and history will be a part of this quick weekend getaway, but that's not the real purpose for this trip. The real purpose of this trip has something to do with bells and the color white. White...again!
No, but this is not terrifying like snow. This is a wedding dress. My friend is getting married! and it's time to look for the dress.  Although perhaps a wedding dress could be considered terrifying. This is the once and a lifetime opportunity to buy the fanciest dress you'll ever wear to the most important party you'll ever go to. No, that's not terrifying at all...

But first things first, mom and I have some restaurants and a few museums to check out. Our hotel sits on 14th street only a few blocks from the White House. Location is everything in DC, and in a city, you want to be able to walk everywhere. I deliver Pepper to the hotel concierge, drop my bags, and head to grab some lunch.

More later...

Traffic Nightmare...

Panic. 

Absolutely panic is flooding me right now.

And you would be feeling the exact same things if you were experiencing now. The throbbing of my heart travels through my body and my blood courses through my veins rapidly. Racing to my palms and feeling me with even more dread. 

I’m feeling very sick.

Oh my gosh, how is this possible? I prepare for anything and everything, and yet this is one of those unpredictable things that cannot be helped. Even in my agony I know this is not the worst possible position to be in. I mean in this chess game, there are worse positions to be in.

For miles ahead of me on I-40, there are cars and cars and cars ahead of me. And all of them are at a complete stop. We are not moving 15mph, we are moving perhaps 1mph, if you can deem that with the verb moving. I mean seriously. This is my absolute worst nightmare. Traffic jams...

Traffic jams on the day that you are supposed to catch an international flight are even worse. 

Yes, those traffic jams cut deeper and make you even sicker.

It’s 4:00 and I need to be at the airport by 5:10 to catch my 6:10 flight to Newark, New Jersey. Thankfully, there is an hour cutoff point for domestic flights. If this were my international flight, I would be turning around and going straight home. There would be no point in going. I have one hour before I absolutely must be at the airport, but I have a 20 minute drive with no traffic and right now there is miles of traffic. This is my official worse nightmare. 

If I miss this flight, I miss Rosh Hashanah - the entire reason I’m going to Israel. I’m flying there with my brother to celebrate the Jewish New Year with our Israeli friends. We have celebrated here in the US and we’ve wanted to celebrate in Israel, but have never had the chance. Now, is our chance, and I can see it slipping, I can see the holiday slipping from my tiny fingers...

You see, our flight to Newark is the last one leaving today from our local airport, and so if we miss it, we miss the flight that is leaving at 11pm tonight to Tel Aviv. We could take the flight to Tel Aviv tomorrow, but then we wouldn’t arrive until Wednesday afternoon.  Wednesday is Rosh Hashanah and we need to be in a Kibbutz in the very north of Israel by then celebrating, eating apples, drinking red wine and telling everyone how excited we are about the New Year not trying to argue out way through security...

But I do believe that is what is going to happen...oh my goodness.

Traffic. Traffic is standing in the way of my Middle Eastern dream.

St. Louis, Nashville, and farewell...bittersweet my dear.

Well, good morning, St. Louis. It is very nice to see you in the daylight after having only glimpsed you through my bleary and weary eyes at midnight last night. Forgive me, for not giving much of a look but after my drive all I longed for was my nice, comfy, pillowy down-feathered bed complete with four extra pillows.

So, this morning it’s time for some appreciation. And today also has some significance because sadly it is the last day of our epic coast-to-coast road trip...Tomorrow morning, we jet back to NC just in time for Saturday night dinner with the rest of the family. 

This morning deserves some reverence....

Ok enough! Time for the sights. We are in St. Louis, so we must check out the Arch...the gateway to the West. After my trip, I do actually question this because this doesn’t really feel “West.” I mean as far as I’m concerned as soon as I crossed back into this state, I was East again. Very, very East...

The Arch is just as big, if not bigger than you imagine. Walking up to it, I have to stop and be very touristy and stare up. If I were in New York City, people would be pushing past me like crazy, but thankfully in this city, people are much kinder and allow me to stare UP. The closer we get, the more overwhelmed I become at this object’s vastness. I mean: WOW! The optical illusion question throws my mom. 

“Is it higher or wider, mom?” I turn back and ask her.

“Higher! No, wait, wider!!! Yes, wider...well, actually wait...Higher. It’s higher. Actually I don’t know and...doesn’t really matter???” She looks at me like my question is pointless and then points out at the people sleeping under the arch. There are quite a few people sleeping under the trees away from the boiling hot sun. WHEW is it hot here. It’s only 11am and it is piping hot here. Oh, and to answer the question - it is the same width as it is height. So, Momma, when you read this: the height and width are the same. Thank you architects for giving us a topic for conversation this morning. 

We approach and begin snapping as many pictures as we possibly can; however, from this proximity, there is no way to get the whole arch in - it is just tooooo big! So, I attempt to be artistic and turn this way and that way and try to take in every angle that I possibly can. If a traveler dares, he can take an elevator to the top center of the arch. I really, really want to, but the line is jutting out of the underground entrance and up the ramp. Today a line is going to prevent me, but one day I shall return and venture toward the top. We are driving to Nashville later today to meet friends for dinner, so we must be very wise with our time. So after looking longingly up, we turn and head back to the hotel to grab our bags and head to the Little Italy area to have lunch. Little Italy thrives with culture and personality and overruns with countless Italian (of course) restaurants. I came over here to eat one thing and one thing only: toasted ravioli. Ravioli is one thing, but toasting it is another...Imagine taking that beautiful light pocket of pasta goodness filled with all kinds of yummy cheeses and then dropping it into some hot oil. Yes, picture it. Now Imagine dunking that toasted pocket into some marinara sauce!! Heavenly. But now let me tell you about something even more heavenly.

Allow me to introduce you to my little friend, Ted Drewes! He comes by special recommendation from Bobby Flay - yes, the Bobby Flay. Infamous for frozen yogurt, Ted Drewes dominates the St. Louis area with its  creamy deliciousness. The place only offers walk-up service in it's tiny red and white shack. But these people know their stuff.  From their base of vanilla flavor custard, you pick and add almost in flavor your heart or palette for that matter can imagine. They take you flavors, throw them in the blender and give it a whirl and out comes their signature concretes. Bobby recommends a combination of oreo, caramel, and heath bar. Being he hails as a world class chef, I take his recommendation and try this fabulous concoction! And yes, heavenly!  Creamy, sweet, crunchy, the combination just melts in the mouth - literally. Remember how hot I mentioned it was earlier? Yes, well the heat doesn't exactly work well with cold custard. Immediately upon receiving my cup, I notice the sun begins to immediately work its magic and the concrete becomes a mudslide and then it becomes a river. I am racing the sun for custard. No one wants warm custard! We want cold custard! Me against the sun!

Nashville calls us again. We are ending our trip just where we began it. We have now made a complete loop, from north to south. We crossed the desert and we journeyed back through the mountains and what a glorious journey it has been. Tonight in Nashville, we decide to do something extra special - line dancing. We are throwing on some boots and buttoning up some plaid and planning to go out and do the lines. Step by step we are going to dance our trip away. Wild Horse Saloon is considered one of downtown Nashville's top tourist attractions. And yes, I am opposed to touristy things, but there is a time and a place and tonight just so happens to be that night. If you ever visit Nashville, you must pull on the boots, and do a step or two. The Wild Horse Saloon pumps with energy!  The house band just covers country songs, but when they shut off, the dj turns on some tunes and a young lady jumps up on stage and begins telling everyone which way to go. We learn how to do the catfish, and by the tenth time, I think I have it down. Our Nashvegas friends meet us, and Debbie actually dances with me. Everyone else is chicken. 

Of course, it is terrible for me to call them chicken after everything we have been through together. We've crossed the USA for goodness sakes! That is no small fete! I have no right to call anyone chicken!

But who cares about name calling...I'm dancing, and having a dang good time!

The Long and Flat Road through Kansas

Denver is blissful. I wake up feeling blissful. My previous evening's wanderings left me appreciating the city's open vibe. But this morning, a daunting feeling looms over my head. I know what it is. I do. I'm just trying not to think about it. I'm thinking that if I ignore it, it'll go away....maybe just maybe go away.
Of course there is no way to make a 13 hour drive go away. I am not a magician, and as far as I am aware none of my companions are magicians, so the 845 mile drive is inevitable. You might be wondering where on earth we are going that's 845 miles away? Well, actually there are plenty of places being we are close to being in the center of the vast United States, but today we are driving to St. Louis, Missouri. Think about that. Go get a map, find Denver and trace through half of Colorado, all of Kansas, and all of Missouri, and you've got our journey. Not your average day trip, but we are on a mission.

Before we leave however, we decide to head downtown to the Rockmount Ranch Wear because you really cannot leave Denver without visiting this mecca of the snap button cowboy shirts and their epic cowboy hats. Rockmount shirts have been worn by several celebrities including but limited to Elvis, Green Day, Heath Ledger, Miley Cyrus, William Shatner, Henry Kissinger, Ronald Reagan, Jake Gyllenhaal, Hugh Grant, Tom Hanks...yeah you get the picture right?? They were the first ones to put snap buttons on their cowboy shirts and they were credited for having the oldest CEO in history before he died in 2007. Jack Weil is infamous in the business world. This store takes its shirts and its hats seriously. 

Everything screams western when you walk in. Everywhere you look is western regalia, pictures of celebs, boots, hats, cows. It's the ultimate western experience. Today just so happens to be my lucky day. They are having a sale on their shirts! Yes, indeed they are. Three racks have a colorful arrangement of $10 shirts. This is too good. I pick a red and white checked shirt and a pink and blue with ruffles. I feel like a true cowgirl now! Jennifer gets a proper hat and we gallop out feeling very westernized. Mom and Jean feel the need to keep the Eastern spirit alive. So nothing for them. Daughters always seem to outbuy mothers.

So now that drive. How do you deal with a drive that's 13 hours long? You just get in the car, put on an epic playlist and start going. You don't think about the hours ahead. You think about the current moment. You think about the fact that you'll aim to stop every 3 hours for food, gas, or a leg stretch. You think about the drive in segments. Definitely not as a whole. It's like the lesson your English teacher gives you in high school when you have to write your end of the year research paper: "How do you eat an elephant? One piece at a time!"

You have to think of this in segments, not a total mission.

After Denver the landscape flattens almost like sometime took an iron to it and pressed out every wrinkle. Hills are oblivious. Mountains? are you kidding???? 

The road seems endless.

The landscape? flat as far as the eye can see.

We cross the Kansas border and are shocked by the teeny size of their sign! Their sign looks like a midget compared to the others. (sorry Kansas, but its true!!!!) It's a tiny little nothing!!! Seriously, Kansas, you would think you can put a little more inches on your sign considering you've got endless landscape!! I would love to tell you that the journey was fascinating. I would love to tell you that I was overwhelmed by the endless cornfields. But after a while...it gets old. Don't get me wrong, you can see the beauty of God here. You can see His handiwork in the colors, the shape of the land, the fertile ground that produces the bulk of our nations corn supply. But still....still. I like a little drama for the eyes. I like my mountains, my greenery, my overwhelming landscapes. That is not what you come to Kansas for. I keep thinking of Clark Kent. I mean maybe we could go on a superman hunt. Maybe?? Nah..there's the whole time schedule thing so that won't work. 

We cross into Missouri after driving through the giant city of Kansas City. The Yankees are in town and we pass their baseball game to our right. Now we could stop for that!! 

Or not...

Darkness falls on our journey...Sleepiness begins taking over and continually we switch drivers. I have the pleasure of driving us into St. Louis. 

It's midnight. All any of us can think about is sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. Yes, God. That's what we need. Lots of sleep. Even though you are in the car all day, driving zaps you...somehow, someway it does...

Diggin' Denver

So our time in Utah has come to end. After our cutesy stint in Moab, it's time for us to head to the big city. And by big city, I mean the mile high city of Denver, Colorado. After tiny Moab, Denver is going to seem like a behemoth, but there's nothing like a change of scene to shake up your world, so off we head to see what Colorado has to offer as a state. I have never had the pleasure of gracing it with my presence before, so I'm thinking that it is going to be quite interesting. Or at least I'm really hoping. We drive north from Moab to hit the I-70 which will take us to the heartland of the city. On the way, a little thing known as the Rocky Mountains happens to be standing in our way. Thankfully very brave men with lots and lots of dynamite came through years ago and blasted tunnels for us to make our way through, or we would have to be digging out pick axes, rope, and God knows what else to get over these gargantuan mountains. Happily, we have exchanged our very red palettes for a larger variety of blues, grays, greens, and brows. No longer are our eyeballs dominated by that outrageous red. Now, I didn't mind the red, but poor mom was ready for a bit of life again. The desert atmosphere was actually making her sad, or so she says. Most likely, she was simply missing my father and brother and used her accuse of disliking the desert to hurry us on our way.
(You're swell, mom ; )


One little thing though as we plow through Colorado, - it's raining buckets. Giant, giant buckets of rain are being dumped on our car as we head in toward Grand Junction. The rain is pounding and the wind is whipping, and our scenic road trip is becoming a very slow process through this mess. FANTASTIC!


Now I love rain, but just not when I'm driving. Rain is so soothing and gorgeous when I'm sitting in my library, reading a novel, sipping a cup of hot tea, not when I'm trying to drive 75mph down the interstate. No, that is when rain is just not acceptable. 
We decide to pull off in Grand Junction to take a break in hopes of the rain passing by the time we get back on the road. Jennifer nearly has a heart attack in the back seat when she finds out there is a chick-fil-a only minutes from us. The word has been spoken. We are stopping at chick-fil-a for our lunch break because southern-raised Jennifer misses her chicken sandwiches and sweet tea when she's in LA. I don't blame her. I mean sweet tea is a staple in my life. It is a necessity just like toothpaste, hot sauce, and coffee. You have to have it in your life. 
It all actually turns out to work perfectly because after we eat and pick up a few things at Target, the storm has finally passed, and we can cruise on into Denver with no rain to slow us down.

The drive through the mountains is breath-taking. Literally, we are driving through the mountains, under them, over them. I am having every relationship possible with them and their scenic views. My only complaint is all of the truckers on the road. I know they have to earn a living, but I wish, they would earn their living and stay on their side of the road at the same time. The winding roads whip and change direction over every bend and the trucks aren't exactly keeping with the flow of traffic. They are idiotically trying to BEAT the flow of traffic. Ummm excuse me, but that's my job, not yours. You are in a giant death machine whipping through the Rocky Mountains, and you are trying to outrun motorcycles, SUV's and sports cars...please, instill some sense in your brain! I nearly have a panic attack when we take a sharp right curb and the driver swerves completely into my lane. GREAT! A giant truck is on my left and a giant mountain is on my left. You might as well reduce me to an ant because I don't stand a chance if the two decide to have a little rendezvous. 

Thanks be to God, we made it to Denver in one piece which I assume you gathered by the fact that I am actually writing this right now. Such an intelligent reader...Anyways, our first stop in this lovely city is Savory Spice Shop which was made famous on the Food network when the owner was given her own show to show the world all the bazillion things that anyone can do with a grain of salt. It's amazing what that little seasoning will do. They should change the saying "Add Spice to Your Life" to "Add a Grain of Salt to Your Life." Seriously.
I'm not kidding. They have every kind of flavored salt imaginable. Black salts, Fleur Salts, smoky salts, PINK salts! Yes, there is such a thing as pink salt, there are also truffle flavored salts. Not the chocolate truffle, but the really expensive mushroom looking truffle that cost something like $80 an ounce. Yes, that is ridiculous. Yes, I tasted it, and it was fabulously outstanding. And no, I didn't buy any. Should have but didn't. I enjoy truffle. I mean how can you not?? When something is that expensive, you are almost obligated to like it. It's like that outrageously expensive bottle of champagne your friend buys you for your birthday. Even if you are not a champagne drinker, you have to enjoy every sip from that bottle. It is your obligation to humanity. Truffles have an odd smokiness to them, or at leasts that's what my oversensitive buds pick up. I make it a game to try all the different salts because I want to see if all these salts can really taste different. (They can! Shocker, I'm telling you.) 
Besides salts, this spice shop sells, welllll about everything. And yes, I mean EVERYTHING in the spice/seasoning world. A culinary heaven for anyone who enjoys stepping foot in their kitchen. They have anything and everything from grilling spices, to maple-flavored sugar, to Indian curry spices, to Amaretto Extract (although, I don't know why you wouldn't just buy the real thing), to steak mixes, chicken mixes, cinnamons, nutmegs, etc. Seriously if you've dreamed of it in the spice world it's here. 
Mom goes a bit crazy and begins gathering up everything. Apparently, we have a lot of cooking to do when we get home. I pick out some cheddar seasonings to season my popcorn! Oh this section makes me very happy. I can put all kinds of flavored cheddars on my popcorn. LOVE IT!! I mean who wants that boring white stuff, right??

After we leave momma's heaven, we head to my heaven on earth. The Tattered Cover Book Store!
I warned you about my dorkiness. Well, here it is exemplified! Walking in through the double doors, my heart skips a beat. I'm home! I suck in that old musty smell that only old books can give off, and begin wandering because I really don't know what else to do but wander in here. The Tattered Cover is Denver's equivalent to Portland's Powell's and Seattle's Elliott Bay Bookstore, but the TC isn't as humungous. Which is nice because in Portland, I felt like I was lost in a five story Costco building.  Bookstores give off character. They reflect their city. This one gives off a relaxed feeling, a nature's lover oasis in the city. Coloradoians definitely care about their outdoors and no wonder, it's jaw dropping out of every window. Many of the featured books cover hiking, biking, skiing, wildlife. The history section has a wonderful history of the cowboys and the Indians. Excitedly, I locate a discount hardcover special edition of Anne of Green Gables that I decide to buy to commemorate my little stint in here. Now whenever, I look at it's jade colored cover, it'll remind me of this glorious three-story wood beamed, rustic bookstore. Do you get the picture yet?
Just checking.
It's now time to eat, and we head to the Wazee Supper Club to order pizza. Jean has been craving pizza, and the locals suggested we come here for a low key atmosphere. Walking in, I immediately love this place because I know this isn't something that tourists would know about, this is the locals joint. Who wants to go to all the touristy spots when you can eat where the natives dine? We order massive pizzas and all share the same opinion on loving Denver, Colorado. Everyone here just seems extremely laid back. This has been one of the friendliest towns we've been in the past two weeks. Everyone has a suggestion, everyone has an idea for you. I like that. I love ideas.
The final idea for the night is for us to stroll down 16th St - a pedestrian only street with shops, restaurants, and street performers, and PIANOS! Yes, there are pianos for the taking on the streets which blows my mind for some random reason. They carry their own tune with outrageous artwork across their fronts, sides, and backs.  Gorgeous! Absolutely gorgeous! Above us, a clock tower is lit up with red and blue lights, people are merrily singing and painting and playing chess along the street. I feel very grand right now. As far as I'm concerned, this city is all right in my books, and definitely makes it on my return list. 

I will be back because I am really diggin' Denver.