Mom came for a short visit last weekend. We had already planned to go up to Nashville for our anniversary (4 years since exchanging vows) – so when Mom said she would be in town we invited her along. (See how awesome my wife is? She is superb.)
First stop was the Opryland Hotel, which was decorated for Christmas. It was completely over the top (as you might imagine) – the Opryland Hotel isn’t exactly known for its subtly. The most impressive thing was the light net over all of the trees.
Second stop was the Renaissance Hotel downtown, which was pretty nice. It was overrun with Marines (the Marine Ball was next door) and hockey fans (Nashville has a hockey team!) and I think there was a show at the Ryman as well. The view from the room was pretty nice, and it was a short walk down to Broadway street. If I have another free night credit, we’ll stay there again. 
Next we went to the Bluebird Cafe – one of my favorite “listening rooms” in the Nashville area. (The other is the Station Inn – but they had some conference on the night we were there). It’s known for being the place where some country singers got their start – Taylor Swift and Garth Brooks were both signed after playing there – but we went to a “round table” with 4 singer songwriters. They were all pretty good and we had a really good time listening.
We got stuck in two traffic jams while trying to get into valet parking at the hotel (two! within half a mile of each other!) and I ended up taking advantage of a portalet that was conveniently located on the sidewalk. (As I exited – a drunk hockey fan said ‘that’s a god damned GIRL’ like girls can’t use portalets. Poor guy.) We got back to the hotel around 10, and Mom was pretty tired so Emily and I went out to Broadway without her. The place was packed – all of the downtown events were over – but we managed to find a friendly bartender and two empty seats at Layla’s, so there we stayed. We did manage to make “friends” with a guy with a grenade tattooed on his neck and an old drunk guy who thought he was hot shit (and who had an, ahem, hole in the crotch of his jeans.) They weren’t very good friends, though, because they got lost shortly after I refused to let them buy me a drink. (Here’s a life tip: never let an asshole buy you a drink).
The next morning we went to the Pancake Pantry for brunch (chocolate chip pancakes FTW) and then went to the Cheekwood Botanical Gardens & Art Museum, where they were having an exhibit on the “wild west”. It was pretty cool – they had some Charlie Russell paintings, and a L.A. Huffman photograph of an Indian woman that was taken at Fort Keogh (super close to where I grew up in southeastern Montana). Wrapped it all up with a trip to the Loveless cafe (their pork chops are the bomb), and then drove back home.
Other things: We had Phoebe & John over for dinner (caramelized baby turnips, roast beef with roasted potatoes and gravy, salad, baked brie with apricot preserves in a puff pastry). Went to a craft show in Gardendale. Mom showed me how to make a pie crust from flour, butter, and water. Then I made a delicious four cheese spinach quiche. Made a last minute trip out to the outlet mall (they have a La Creuset store!), and afterwards I drove 20 minutes the wrong way before realizing I was heading to Atlanta and not back to Birmingham. Oops! Then early the next morning I dropped Mom off at the airport for the long flight home. I had a really super time with her – she’s one of my best friends – and even though we spent a majority of the time sitting around reading books and drinking tea I had a fantastic time. I miss her already.
In other news, I’m playing a new health game called SuperBetter. Want to play it with me? Drop me a line for an invitation code my email is thenameofthiswebsite (without the .com)@gmail.com
The Tiger’s Wife is a collection of stories within stories, of myth and folklore and a history that includes both. Natalie, the narrator of the book, is on her way to volunteer at a medical clinic in parts of the rural former Yugoslavia when she gets news of her grandfather’s death. From there the story spins through Natalie’s memory – of going with her grandfather to the zoo to see the tiger, of the copy of ‘The Jungle Book’ he kept in his pocket, of being a teenager during wartime and following her grandfather, by then an old man, through abandoned streets until they finally see an elephant being walked through the streets to the zoo. Natalie asks if there are any other stories “like that”, from before, and he tells her the story of the tiger’s wife. But the story is not just of the tiger’s wife – it is also a story of a deathless man, and of the myths surrounding the small village her grandfather grew up in. 
