For Christmas, Jen treated me to an evening in Napa at the fabulously vintage, Vintage Inn. We had a lovely time crashed in front of the fireplace with a couple bottles of wine, a few nibbles (ok, a boatload of nibbles), and ok, maybe some chocolate. Maybe. I don’t remember. We discussed politics, men in spandex, back hair..eerrr.., our favorite razors and my distaste for shaving cream, our dream small business ideas, names for our dream small businesses, wallpaper, the fact that is was -2 degrees in Iowa, Rick and his affinity for Todd1 sweatsuits and Zoobas back in the day, a strategy for seducing the cleaning guy into giving us as many L’Occitaine mini toiletries from the hotel as possible (they’re like gold, really), and then, of course, what we were going to eat at the all-you-can-eat Champagne breakfast buffet in the morning. Two words: CHA CHING.
On Tuesday, my Mom and Aunt Nancy drove up to meet us for a day of wine tasting and then dinner at the exquisite Bouchon, quite possibly my most-favorite-in-the-whole-world French restaurant. But before the arrived, I attempted a ‘ooooh, damn, hungover, high altitude’ quick jog through the Valley.
GORGEOUS! I mean, even though I was a stuffed bird and probably still a little tipsy, when else would I have a chance to run in Napa? Totally worth the self-inflicted, and, let’s face it, deserved suffering. I was glad my iPod was dead because I got stuck carrying my iPhone and was able to catch a couple shots of my run on film. I think I need to do that more often…if only I had a camera with me when I crossed ‘Captain Hook’ that fateful wintry night a few weeks ago…who knows what could have ensued. Next time.
