• Dixie Donkey

    I’m sure most of you have tried a Moscow mule. They have been the avocado toast of the town for a while now. A few years back I ordered one in New Orleans, and the bartender looked at me like I asked for something dirty or illegal.

    “A what?”

    So, I purchased copper cups and made them at home.

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    Moscow Mule
    1 1/2 ounces of chilled vodka
    1/2 ounce lime juice
    chilled ginger beer
    crushed ice

    Mix the vodka and lime juice in a copper cup. Fill the cup with crushed ice and then top with ginger beer. You can also muddle a sprig or two of mint into the vodka before adding the ice.

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    Unfortunately, I like the cups more than the cocktail. I’m just not a fan of ginger beer. But I do love ginger ale, so I came up with my own copper cup cocktail.

    I am proud to introduce the Dixie donkey.

    (Naming cocktails is tough. Jackson jackass was a close second, but I figured there are enough of those already.)

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    Dixie Donkey
    1 1/2 ounces of bourbon
    1/2-1 ounce lime juice
    chilled ginger ale
    mint
    crushed ice

    Muddle the mint and lime juice in the bottom of a copper cup. Top with crushed ice. Speaking of ice, a Lewis bag makes a huge difference.

    You fill the canvas bag with ice, fold it over and beat it with a wooden mallet. The result is perfectly chipped ice and a major release of anger and aggression.

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    Add the bourbon and fill with ginger ale. Give it a little stir, and garnish with mint because you’re fancy.

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    I’m so fancy that I have a cocktail making assistant…

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    But I had to fire him when he dumped his bug box finds onto the table. Good thing I had that mallet handy.

  • can’t catch a {spring} break, but we can catch a bug

    I try to blog more. But then get preoccupied with other important things like my job and laundry (my other job). And with some less important stuff. Last night, I spent 45 minutes watching baby ducks hatch via live feed from Graham’s kindergarten classroom. (It was mesmerizing. Or maybe the fumes from the paint job that wrapped yesterday were getting to me.) I have lots I want to share with the internet (like the ducks), but it seems like things should be in sequential order. And I am behind. It is much like my recurring nightmare of showing up for the final of a class I forgot (or chose not) to attend. No notes. No clue. No pants.

    Please tell me some of you have had this dream.

    While you are at it, please tell me how to tie that paragraph into a bunch of photos from spring break.

    As I mentioned here, Wells fell victim to the stomach bug. The next day he was fine, and we decided to go forward with our road trip plans. We also decided to take a barf bucket because we are optimistic, not dumb.

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    We made it to Atlanta without incident and celebrated with some Shirley Temples at the hotel. You would think I would’ve learned my lesson with the grape juice.

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    We took the boys to see the Hawks play the Cavaliers. Or as Wells put it, to see Lebron.

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    It seemed like all was well until our middle of the night puker struck again. Shirley you knew that was coming.

    The next morning, he rallied, and we hit Howell Mill Road and JCT Kitchen.

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    Graham said he can wear his shades inside because he is a hipster.

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    See those parmesan truffle fries? They were delicious. I ate every last one of mine and half of SK’s.

    You know where this is going.

    I haven’t been that sick since the great spring break of 2011. It was so bad the hotel sent the head of security to our room to check on me. I bet he regretted that a couple of days later.

    By noon the next day, I pulled it together, and we visited the Georgia Aquarium and World of Coca Cola.

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    They said they were trying to not act crazy so we would give them more Coke. They are really bad actors.

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    The original plan was to spend a few days in Atlanta and then travel to Asheville to visit Mawmaw K. In the spirit of full disclosure, SK called and told her about our various ailments. In the spirit of self-preservation, she requested we keep our traveling gastro circus far away. Ninety-five year olds are extremely wise.

    Since we had already taken the week off to spend with the boys, we decided to reroute to Lake Oconee. It was beautiful, and I am happy to report that no one threw up while we were there.

    But, I like to stick with the theme so here’s a massive dump…

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    It didn’t go as planned, but it was a great week. And we could not ask for s’more.

  • 30,000 words

    When I picked Wells up from Cowboy Day at school last Friday, he immediately took off his shirt. You know, because it is springtime in Mississippi and 85 degrees with 100% humidity. There he was, sitting in the backseat wearing only a cowboy hat, a bandana and blue jeans. Lucky for him, my darn phone was full. Unlucky for you, I’ve got to dump these babies.

    So, Valentines weekend we took a last minute trip to the beach. The beach in February might not sound like a good idea to you, but I would go during a category five hurricane if someone invited me.

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    Exactly.

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    Clearly they were making fun of my beach jumping. We see who’s laughing now.

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    Graham loves BUTT and Alley’s but thinks it is a weird name for a restaurant.

    It was the weekend before Fat Tuesday, and Seaside had kids activities and a parade.

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    It’s scary how much that looks like my junior prom pic. Except Graham is a little taller than my date.

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    Insert funny story here. I’ve got nothing.

    But more pictures.

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    So much food. So many selfies.

    So ready to go back.


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