One recent Saturday we went bar-hopping in our quaint lil’ downtown. Our first stop was PaddyShack, a golf and gaming lounge owned by the same folks who operate our favorite Irish pub, Paddy Coughlin’s. We’re not golfers, unless you count the types of courses that have miniature windmills, and the one time we tried their golf simulator we were hopelessly lost. But there are other draws: the place has a fun vibe, groovy plaid carpeting, and excellent cocktails and sandwiches.
And a brand new Bloody Mary bar, which of course we just had to check out.
Now, Tara and I know a thing or two about build-your-own Bloody Marys, so we were chatting with the super-friendly bartender, making all kinds of suggestions. Like adding tomato juice and Clamato in addition to the bottled mix. Setting out celery salt. And adding tongs for the garnishes. She was very receptive to our ideas and said she’d incorporate them all. So, we kind of felt it was our duty to stop in yesterday for a quick lunch and a couple of drinks. Tara had to work a few hours in the morning, so we didn’t get there until almost 1:00…only to find they had just shut down the Bloody Mary bar and put everything away.
And this is why I love small towns: as soon as we walked in, the bartender insisted on setting up the Bloody Mary bar again just for us. Tara was like, “No, it’s okay, that’s too much work, please don’t go to the trouble, it’s no big deal, we’ll catch it next time!” while I said, “Great! Thanks!”
Never look a gift horse in the mouth, guys.
She said she’d been eagerly awaiting our arrival, hoping we’d show up so she could show off the new additions. They were all there, as promised: the tomato juice and Clamato, the celery salt, a bunch of adorable mini tongs perfect for grabbing cocktail onions and olives and cheese curds (this is Wisconsin) and adding them to your Bloody.
So, that was fun, and our paninis were delicious, too. I just hope she doesn’t expect us to be there every weekend, ’cause bar tabs do add up. Occasionally works, though. Maybe we’ll become irregular regulars.
Screw you, Bambi!
After months of anticipation and planning, this weekend was Go Time for Tara’s garden. She started all her veggies from seeds way back in January, beneath grow lights in the basement, and had taken them out to the garden last weekend so they could acclimate to the outdoors. Thursday, she loaded up her pickup with Purple Cow, an organic soil compost mix recommended by Neighbor Brian. It’s made from recycled plant material with added nutrients and is used in professional agricultural and horticultural crop production. Clearly, this is a woman who is serious about her gardening.
So, when I glanced up from my weeding project this afternoon to find her Tara standing there with tears in her eyes, my heart dropped.
“The deer ate my tomatoes!” she said, crestfallen.
You might think deer are cute and gentle creatures. Maybe you’re even delighted when they show up in your yard. But this is real life, not a freakin’ Disney movie. When you’ve invested so much time, effort, and money into a hobby that you’re passionate about, only to see your hard work wiped out in the blink of an eye, then suddenly all you can see is red. For the first time in my life, I envisioned a deer head mounted on the living room wall.
They didn’t get all her tomatoes, but ruined a good dozen. Last summer, we (fine, she) put up a fence with a few well-positioned bamboo stakes to deter the deer. Honestly, it’s pretty janky, and only a stop-gap measure until we can afford a professional 8′ fence. But if you’ve ever priced fencing, you know it ain’t cheap. This will have to do for now.
Tara was about ready to give up on the garden for good after seeing the havoc the ^%#$ deer wreaked, but fortunately, cooler heads prevailed. We took a trip to Menard’s for more bamboo stakes and twine to reinforce the barrier, and a few pots of tomato starts to offset the loss. Tara thinks if your vegetables weren’t started from seeds you’re cheating, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
So help me, if this doesn’t stop them, I will be grilling venison tomorrow.
Mark My Words 
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