Fur and Liquor in Small Town

Had a most lovely evening last night, what with grilling out and enjoying a couple of mudslides (the beverage, not the natural disaster) at Miss Kitty's colleague's hoyse last night. She and I discussed what her kids have covered so far, and it seems that I've been planning to give her students way more information about architecture than they really need/want/can handle. She described Gothic architecture as "if you put your hand on top of it, it would poke you." While a rather simple description, it's quite accurate. Now I don't feel so bad about writing "I can't look at NeoClassical Revival on a full stomach" in my notes.

It's just been great to get away from the Mile High Shitty for a while. The air smells different here--the pines are Southern, not pinon; the plants are different; and the humidity is pleasant, not tangible. Today is goofing around with my lecture some more to cut it in half, then out to Mom's farm to hang out and grill and imbibe some more. I'm quite the cheap date, but since I've been training at altitude for so long, I can actually drink one drink (two if they're kinda weak) and still be able to walk in Georgia. I also need to decide what to wear tomorrow for the lecture. Gotta make the important decisions, you know....