On my expedition to College Station, I noticed a horrible, horrible trend that seems to be all of the rage with the college aged guys. They wear shirts, unbuttoned, with no under shirt. Ewww. I approached this fine specimen and asked him, WHY?? He said it was because it was hot. No excuse. Ewwww. Ewwwww. Ewwwww. Excuse my lack of Photoshop skills. I wanted to protect the fashion impaired, but all I could figure out how to use was the eraser.
Actual grapes on the Messina Hof vines!
A couple of weekends ago, I went on a girl’s trip to escape reality. Not that my reality is horrible or anything. It is actually quite awesome. But sometimes you just need to get away!
We started the day at Messina Hof Winery and Resort for a tour and tasting. The girls and I got to meet the owner and head winemaker, Paul Bonarrigo. He has a son who is in the process of training to take over the business to be head winemaker. I thought about seducing him and begging him to marry me, but then I remembered that I love my current husband more than that prospect of being the wine goddess of Messina Hof. Really, I do.
After the wine tour, we went to College Station. I was told I wasn’t allowed to blog about anything that happened there. So that is all I have to say about that. I returned home on Sunday afternoon to continue my reign as wine goddess of Robin Grove Court.
I have the world’s most sensitive nose. Drives Scott crazy, because I am constantly saying, “What’s that smell?” With 3 kids and 5 pets, there is always SOME smell. When the kids were little I could smell a dirty diaper from miles away. They could be upstairs in their crib, and I could be downstairs on the other side of the house, and I would stop what I was doing and say, “Someone pooped.”
I think Jack inherited my gift….or rather curse. Who wants to smell poop from miles away?
The last time we were making the 12 hour drive to Birmingham to visit family, we stopped for the first of 62 bathroom breaks at a gas station. It was nasty even from the outside, but everyone had to pee. I took all 3 kids with me into the restroom and the smell hit us in the face. I started gagging a little bit and begged them to hurry. But Jack was worse off than me. He said, “I can’t do this,” and started running for the exit. Before he could make it, he vomited in his hands. Literally blew chunks and caught it.
The other kids started gagging and the smell was suffocating us. We didn’t even have time to wash Jack’s hands in the sink. The four of us bust out of the lady’s room into the main area of the store. Everyone stops to stare. And Jack is still holding puke.
I explain that it smells so bad in the bathroom that my child vomited. In his own hands. Isn’t this obvious.
The foreign gas station worker guy starts apologizing and saying stuff about raw sewage that I couldn’t quite make out.
This happened within the first 20 minutes of our 12 hour road trip. Things got worse from there, including the smells. There are all kinds of odors to endure when you are trapped in the car for 700 miles with a husband, 3 kids and a dog.
