The Hellhole

Thursday, July 31, 2014

Behind on blogging yet again.  It's been a couple of busy weekends in a row.  The weekend before last, I had to go to a funeral.  The deceased was the sister of one of my closest friends and even though I'd met her only a handful of times (the sister, not the closest friend), I needed to be there for my bud, so that Saturday we were road-tripping to Pendleton, South Carolina.  I hope this doesn't sound ghoulish, but I see my brother and his wife so seldom, we were already of necessity going to be about 18 minutes away from them, so we decided that instead of going home after the funeral, we would instead head up to Greenville, SC, spend the night at a hotel and spend time with Bo and Sarah.

The hotel we'd stayed at when last in Greenville, the Poinsett, was full this time so we were at the Marriott.  A junior suite was only $10 more than a room, so you can guess what I did.  The suite turned out to be quite spacious and the hotel itself was quiet and spotlessly clean, so high marks in my books.  I think the next time we go, we'll stay at the other hotel downtown, a Hyatt, and decide which of the three will be our regular hangout.

I seem to have a weather curse when it comes to Greenville.  Last time we went was in November so I took sweaters and jeans, and the day dawned so sunny and perfect that a sweater was far too hot for a walk in the park and I wound up going out in my pajama shirt.  It wasn't obviously pajamas, though; it was not a striped, double-lapel oversized shirt but looked more like a t-shirt, pale purple soft cotton with an artistically rendered dove on the front.  Still, I knew I'd been out in public in my pajamas, even if no one else did.  Don't tell my Gramma Helen.  Yes, yes, she is dead, but don't tell her or she'll rise up righteous and the knowledge of my transgression will kill us both.

This time, I took skorts, capri pants and t-shirts in addition to the longish skirt and top I wore to the funeral.  Well, it rained all through the funeral and they nevertheless had part of the ceremony outside, on sodden ground.  Between checking in, unloading bags and then walking everywhere once in downtown Greenville, to dinner and exploring afterward, my flats and skirt got soaked.  The only other shoes I had were sandals, which would be worse.  Great - overheated in November and now I didn't even want to go back out to enjoy Saturday night in Greenville unless we could find a sweater for me.

Luckily, we could!  Downtown Greenville has the wonderful Mast General Store!  And their website says they sell outerwear and there are sweaters!  We headed back out to Mast but on the way there, the wind kicked up and the rain blew under the umbrella all over me, so by the time we went into the store, my feet, pants and legs were soaking wet.  I'd wanted this to be a pleasant end to an unhappy occasion, but I was beginning to get miserable.  At the store, it turned out that they were serious about their clothing:  the sweaters and jackets were Gore-Tex, North Face and Patagonia.  I paid over $100 for a hot pink fuzzy Patagonia sweater; I'd have been okay with a $10 sweatshirt from Target, but that wasn't among my choices and there was no way even the allure of a snack with Bo and Sarah could have lured me back outside without obtaining warmer clothing.  So I bought it.  Then I discovered their Candy Barrel!  I bought lots of candy buttons and Teaberry gum and giant Smarties and all sorts of things!
Serious sugar high.  "Cheerwine" is not wine at all but cherry cola, sooo much better than cherry Coke.  And I can write that; I live in Atlanta, the city that Coke built.

Once Bo and Sarah were done with their gig, we met at Barley's for snacks and drinks.  This was most important as the secondary purpose of the trip was to present Bo with a little giftie we'd picked up for him in our travels.  Not really, we got it from ThinkGeek, but doesn't "in our travels" sound more glamourous?  Maybe not, since the only place we'd traveled lately was to a funeral, but never mind that.  I give you (drum roll)............



DAS HORN!!!

Picture is out of focus, sorry, but I loved his expression too much not to use it.

RAAAAR, and stuff!


He explained to our server that he'd been gifted this marvelous drinking horn of uber capacity (seriously, it says that on the box) and asked if they'd help him christen it.

It holds rather more than a pint, but the dude said, "Hell yeah we will!" and then he and Bo busied themselves searching the beer selection for something worthy of




DAS HORN!!!



They chose Victory Storm King Imperial Stout.


Which is as it should be.


Bo haz a smug.



People kept stopping by to ask him about it, compliment him on it and express their admiration.

They all wish they had a sister who would buy them

DAS HORN!!!

But they don't.


It comes with a stand and a neck strap (not pictured) for when, you know, you need both hands free for smiting and pillaging, but you still might get thirsty.

You may not know this, but smiting is a thirsty business.

Bo is prepared.

1 Comments:

  • In spite of the funeral, it sounds like a good time! Love the photos of DAS HORN and your handsome brother. Kudos to the photographer.

    Since I left off smiting, I guess I don't need DAS HORN. sigh

    mom

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 1:06 PM  

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