Stop and Smell the Roses

The next morning, after I've had sufficient coffee and scrapple to feel human again, and after the devastating after-effects fresh hand-crafted beer have worn off, I text Kate about the park.

She doesn't remember even sending the text but she's up for The Loop.

Evidently she'd been at The Flower Show the night before. It's a giant annual themed and overly hyped display of artfully displayed flowers and greens and props and pipe and drape and all manner of hoo-hah that the city goes extravagantly nuts over each year.  Honestly, I've never understood all the hype but lots of people plan their calendar around it. Baffling.

Kate's company was a sponsor and she had an obligation to go.  But being Kate, she had smuggled a decent bottle of red into the gig in her purse.

And evidently had polished it off.  This just weeks after having done something similar at the Lenten Fish Fry Supper at her church.  Kate has a way of making all things tolerable.

And somewhere along the way, she posted a photo on Facebook. No, not of her swilling contraband Merlot from her purse, but of a sign that appealed to her Dairy State native sensibilities.  "Keep Calm and Eat Cheese."

She hadn't remembered doing that either until all of us began commenting on it.  Her memory apparently jogged by the fact that she'd taken such a liking to the sign that she'd found room for it in her purse (the empty wine bottle having been discarded in a convenient ladies room) and had taken it home on the train to display in her kitchen.

So she could use the healing effects of a 5-mile walk in the fresh air as well, it would seem.

I get dressed for a morning of athleticism and hear that I have a text.  I assume it is Kate suggesting we stop for medicinal Egg McMuffins on the way as an elixir for what ails us (Or in my case, "ales" me.)

But no.

It's Mac.

"I've never been to The Flower Show, Liza. That could be fun."

Well, probably not as much fun as if I'd gone with Kate, but it is in the city, which is more my turf, and has a lot of potential.

"Sounds great, Mac."

Here we go.