Over Easter weekend, I went back to my old Kentucky roots and spent a little time in my hometown of Cynthiana. In Kentucky, you are known by your county, not your county seat. Just after we'd crossed the state line, we fueled up. When the gas station attendant asked "where y'headin?" we told him Cynthiana and his face became a question mark. I remembered and corrected. "Harrison County," I said. "Oh, yeah!" he replied. The Kentucky you may know is all bluegrass, and horse farms, and the best . . .
Tomorrow morning, my family will head out for what will likely be an 8-hour road trip to visit my family in Kentucky. I haven't lived in the Bluegrass State for nearly 20 years, but I've got some deep roots there, and crossing three states along I-64 always feels like coming home. What doesn't feel as amazing is packing for the expected and unexpected on a trip. As I reflect on the many adventures over the years, I believe I can tell you—from experience—what I've learned traveling with my . . .
Some people may wait for the thermostat to top 70 to pull their blenders back out and begin experimenting with frozen cocktails. I am not one of those people. I'll take my margarita any day of the year, thank you very much. So when King Family Vineyards unveiled their 2017 Crosé, I gave myself the green light for making my favorite blended drink. On a recent trip to the vineyard to celebrate a certain cutie's birthday, I got my first taste of the best rose wine in the region. While the . . .
I have to admit, the well has been dry on the blog this week. I had such good intentions to post my signature Frosé recipe and give tips for a spring wardrobe, but then snow set in on Charlottesville, and those ideas seemed ridiculous. Thank goodness for Lorae who swooped down with this week's Company Memo to remind us that this is, in fact, spring, and Easter is only a week away. Thanks for the encouragement we all needed, Lorae! Have a great weekend, gang. Easter Egg Decorating Fun Do . . .
I can so clearly remember learning that my sorority sister and college dorm neighbor, Lindy, had been seriously injured during a ski trip in Wyoming. Those first days and weeks were critical and she was constantly on my mind. Someone organized a 24-hour prayer chain and I signed up to pray during the 4 am slot. I went flat down on my face in the middle of the night begging God to spare my friend. I wasn't the only one. Countless others were pleading for her life. A Facebook page was set up to . . .