So, a few of us decided not to wallow in the hotel rooms and go out for a good dinner instead. From left to right: Patrice Fitzgerald, Jen Foehner Wells, Rysa Walker and me, Ann Christy.
If you don’t know who any of those names are, go to Amazon and type in their name. It means you’re missing out on some good books.
So, Patrice (she is such a great organizer of humans, events, anything that descends into randomness and chaos) made our reservations at Lemaire, inside The Jefferson Hotel, which is my favorite here in Richmond. I confess, I was drooling at the thought.
And here is what was going through my head, in order. One: Meat Butter and Two: I’m going to pop this dress if I eat Meat Butter. (By the way, meat butter is just any meat you eat there. I have no idea how they do it, but all meat products almost melt in your mouth and force indecent sounds out of mouths. Truly.)
This is me before I left, dreaming of meat butter and fearing my zipper.
The above are snaps of my dinner. I know…I know. Why am I showing you food? Because I love food! And because I rarely get to eat pretty food. Mostly, my food is healthy, but not particularly attractive. I mean, I make a great home-made split pea soup, but it ain’t much to look at.
I wasn’t the only one impressed with dinner. I took photos of everyone else taking photos of their food. Whoa…deep. Okay, not really. The funny thing is, I did too and I believed that I posted them, but they never showed up. So really, who knows where they wound up and what I really posted. I’m not going to dig and find out. 🙂
Yes, I know I tend to be very straight laced about things most of the time. But I did let my hair down, so to speak, and imbibe a little. I won’t post the pictures of me later in the evening trying to totter my way up the ramp to the elevators. Not cute! For once, I’m glad of facebook scroll.