A party, a red headed slut and a red nosed girl.

We zipped off to Denver for the weekend. We were there to visit Jason’s parents and to celebrate the 80th birthday of a dear family friend.


Mrs. B was one of the Southmoor Park Denver ladies who made the trip out for our wedding. Her attendance was made all the more special because of the fact that she lost her “Mr. Wonderful” in June. Trust me, when someone of her spirit and situation grabs you on the arm, pulls you in and says “pay attention to every day!” you listen.
Mrs. B is a tiny woman with a very formidable presence. She is a surrogate grandmother for Jason and her love of Jason and his family is clear. We will be lucky to find someone like her in our own neighborhood. She says it like it is and is a true lady.
She told us at Easter last year to save this weekend for her 80th birthday party, so we made sure to book a ticket as soon as we were able.

She’s been having trouble with her back and had surgery earlier in the year. At almost 80, complications are not unusual but she has been determined to celebrate her birthday in style. Last week she experienced what was described as unbearable pain in her back and so she called 911 for assistance. Before the fire department could wisk her to the hospital (well, actually,they waited with her while a transport company came to take her to the particular hospital that she insisted on going to) she invited them to her party.
Here’s a clue as to how likeable and what a strong personality that she has, during the party there were no less than ten members of the local fire department that came to the party. They were on duty, so they were in uniform and arrived on their trucks. This delighted the kids at the party to no end. It was if the Pied Piper arrived because at one moment all the children simply disappeared. These patient fire fighters were giving tours of the truck and letting the kids blow the horn. Thankfully, most of the neighbors were at the party, thus the blasting of the horn was likely not a major disturbance.

No less than 200 people were invited to the soiree and it was lovely. She even had a band tucked into the corner of her living room. Mrs. B knows how to party. We’ve privately agreed to attend any party she throws.

In addition to this fun event we also were able to have dinner with some of the local family and friends. We dined one night at this place called “The Perfect Landing.” This little restaurant is at the other Denver airport, the one where the private jets land. It was rather fun seeing these expensive corporate jets take off and land while we enjoyed our meal. Over dinner the discussion turned to cocktails and someone mentioned having something called a “Red Headed Slut.” Well, let me tell you this, I’m so very thankful that I’m pregnant because we ordered one and it was horrid.

A “Red Headed Slut” is a drink made with equal parts of jaggermeister and peach schnapps and a dash of cranberry juice. It is NOT good. We passed one around the table and I had a sip and then happily tossed it aside. I’m not a fan of licorice flavored beverages, jagger, uzo or anise are not common flavors in my world. Those of you who like it amaze me.

We also spent some time with the soon to be grandparents, who tipped their hands that they are very excited about the impending arrival of Miss Lucy. It was sweet to see their excitement in person. We ventured out to Babies R Us for a showing of the thus far selected baby items (the pack n’ play, rocker and other items that no baby should ever have to suffer without.)

On an overly personal note (as if I never go there) I grew a rather large pimple on the top of my nose. My attempt to resolve it has resulted in a Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer situation. This morning in the shower I rubbed the wash cloth across my face too aggressively and scrubbed off the scab. The amount of blood was frightening. In fact, I haven’t seen so much blood in the shower since the movie Psycho. (Becky wins the award for the most blood in a bath tub in an unfortunate leg shaving incident while in college.) I worried that I was going to need a Band-Aid across my face, but thankfully I bled out before I had to leave my room. I do feel like quite the grown up at my conference this morning with a cute scab on the top of my nose.