weekend wrap-up + …nothing.

First things first.

Actually, sidebar: Isn’t that phrase a little, I don’t know, redundant? If you’re calling something the first thing, isn’t it obviously first? Grammar people, help me out here. Anyone?

Anyway: I have officially registered for my first official 5k. Yes, I meant to use two forms of the same word in one sentence. That’s how you know this is super official.

The race, if you’re wondering (you weren’t), is indeed the Spirit Run, scheduled for 9am on Sept. 29.

I seriously can’t wait.

But onto a recap of my weekend.

As mentioned, Mama and Big Sister came up for our staycation. I slightly slacked on documenting it all in photo-form, so here’s a not-at-all comprehensive look at what we did.

Note: I was going to start this montage with a photo of the outside of my house to show you our “hotel” (as inspired by Mama), but then realized that any of you dedicated readers who happen to moonlight as stalkers would then be able to use your spy-grade technology to find me.

So insert photo of the outside of my house here.

On Friday, we trucked (er, car-red) it down to the land of Bargersville, Ind. (nope, I hadn’t heard of it either) to visit Mallow Run Winery.

Mallow Run winery.

Before we tasted (read: drank), we stopped for some photos.

Mama and Big Sister, stopping for photos.
Mama and Big Sister, jumping for photos.
Me and Big Sister, not as talented or as well-timed at pulling off a jumping photo on the first try.
…but then we figured it out.
And then decided it was finally time for wine.

I have to admit: As a pseudo wine snob, I’m generally somewhat apprehensive about non-Californian (or, you know, Italian. Where it’s really real.) wineries. I really don’t like the fruity, sweet, fake stuff.

Oh, Mallow Run. How you exceeded my expectations.

Mallow Run. Exceeding my expectations.

That night, we shopped and ate at Seasons 52, probably on my list of top five Indianapolis eateries.

Then, Boyfriend refused to let us play board games (read: Trivial Pursuit) so instead, we sat around our neighbor’s fire pit.

Rustic.

On Saturday, we Patachou-ed, walked along Mass Ave (and subsequently found out there’s really not much to do there during the day) before lunching at Bru Burger Bar. If you’re headed that way soon, order the goat cheese-pepper-crostini thing. You won’t be sorry.

Then we went to Easley Winery.

Oh, how I wish it would have been like Mallow Run.

Tourists, don’t necessarily take my word for it. A year or so ago, Mama and I went tasting at Easley, happened upon their Saturday afternoon “Groovin’ in the Garden” and had a particularly lovely day.

This weekend was a horse of an entirely different color.

First, they mandated we be with a tour group to get to the tasting bar, which meant that even though we weren’t on the current tour, we had to wait until the tour was finished before we could do the group tasting.

Then, they kept offering the good-looking dry wines to people all around us but never actually to us.

Potentially because we were making these faces.

Our reaction to Easley group tastings.

And these faces.

Our reaction to the Traminette which was not, as they promised, “delicious.”

Or perhaps because we used varying degrees of hand-drawn emoticons as our rating system.

The no-smile-no-frown face signifies indifference.

In all, I think the lesson to be learned here is this: Never trust a company whose staff is clad in tie-dye. They’re obviously shouting, “We don’t have as much fun as we think our shirts say we do.”

Keep that in mind.

Then we came back to Hotel Hannah and played cards. I might have forced it on them, but hey, that’s what I do.

And it was lots of fun, let me tell you.

Because, you know, I won.
And then Mama lost. Despite my less-than-accurate addition skills.

And then, we went to Mama Carolla’s for some delizioso (see what I did there?) Italian cuisine.

Look at those two. Adorbs.
Are you seeing this? To. Die. For.

And then watched a movie that I forgot was a little heavy on the sexual innuendos, which made for a slightly awkward hour and a half. No offense, Mama.

What a weekend, right? I was going to continue onto a completely different topic but my word count is so completely into skimming stage that I should probably just call it a day.

Or a post.

Whatever.

One Comment

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  1. I believe the phrase “first things first” originated as an admonishment akin to “don’t put the cart before the horse”. Of course, I didn’t research this, so I could be totally full of

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