On Busyness & B Travels

The setting for the story you are about to read.

 WHEW...

Let me catch my breath.

How is it already October? Did we just skip over September? I'd like it back or at least an opportunity to remember if anything actually happened during it.

Oh wait, let's see. I hosted a fundraiser, ate lots of Mexican food, had some sushi, some Indian, felt ill and got better, toured the WV mountains, and then escaped to Alabama and SC for a whirlwind four days. That was September. Ok, I feel better.

I think that Cap and I might be victims of the Law of Attraction. We needed something to do? Well, for better or worse, I think we now have our fill.

Talk about "How to Not Murder Your Med Student Husband"--who???? I have a husband??? I want to murder him? WHY.

Because you are bored and separated from friends and family because of medical school. Remember?

Oh, yeah.

I think I have achieved busyness. Successfully? I will let you decide.

Hellooooo. Oysters.

Last Wednesday, I fled (as if a pack of rabid 8 year olds were after my soul, little soul suckers) the Mountain State for the intoxicating and magical Low Country. Five and a half hours, one gas stop and bathroom break later, I found myself in Columbia, SC. Well, I was close enough to my beloved coast to effectively imagine the thick and briny fragrance of rotting marsh grass. I cuddled my 9 day old nephew for a bit, read Peter Pan to the three and half year old nephew, and ate delicious enchiladas before forcing myself to close my eyes before Hannah picked me up at 9am the following morning (Thursday).

The stars of this story in our farm chic get-ups.

I was able to take the nephew to pre-school before hitting the road with my oldest bestie at 95-99 mph, speeding to Birmingham. We gabbed and yapped and chatted and laughed and listened to really good music as we raced the clock to Alabama and our $1,000 a plate dinner at 5:30 that afternoon. We thought we would be in a major time crunch with only seconds to dab mascara and don our boots and cocktail dresses.

The long white table.

Little did we know that we would be gaining an hour at the Georgia/Bama border. Score one for us! Of course, we didn't realize this lucky phenomenon until we got up to our hotel room, took one look at the clock, sighed in appreciation for timezones, and decided to go shopping.

Toasting Bessie.

Of course, none of the 20 lbs. of garments that I had trekked from WV would do. We spotted a cute boutique near our hotel, and I found the evening's attire on super markdown. Score two!

Drinks menu at Little Donkey.

Then, we decided we needed a drink, so we went to the Little Donkey and indulged in some cocktails, veggie fundido, and chips and salsa.

This table was the best idea ever.

This is when we looked at the clock and realized that our gained hour had slipped quickly away and we were on track to miss our 5:30 rendezvous. We had a fashion show at the hotel and applied the finishing touches before grabbing a cab to an urban farm on the edge of downtown Birmingham.

As we drove up, there were string lights crisscrossing above a very, very long white table, whose sparkly crystal and china place settings glinted in the setting sunlight. There was bourbon--lots and lots of bourbon--in mason jars with simple orange peels. There were hay bales covered in burlap for easy seating. There were huge Gulf shrimp, homemade sausage (that tasted like chicken bog, which my Pee Dee folks will understand), OYSTERS (those delicious little filters of the sea), pickled radishes and celery, oh, and bourbon.

Bessie.

The cocktail hour was long, ushering us into twilight and filled with bluegrass music and garden plot admiring. We plucked arugula straight from the ground and tasted its spice. We even grilled up a few peppers with permission from the plot keeper. Yum.

Then it was time for dinner and a stroll across the farm to the long, white table. It was time to toast Bessie. Bessie was the grass-fed, three-year-old cow that would become our dinner. They roasted her whole in a pit. We are very thankful for Bessie!

We sat down and were served family style. It started with grilled Red Snapper, fresh out of the Gulf the day before (OMG). Then came Bessie and field pea salad and corn relish, turnips, and okra. Finally, there was apple cake with fresh cream. It was a dreamy night under the stars, filled with delicious food and excellent company.

$250 bourbon. Yowz.

I would gladly drop everything to do it all over again. Thanks, Hannah!!

-b