I am quite relieved to be staying in the Chicago area for the entire duration of this weekend. I realized today that I hadn't actually spent an entire weekend at home since before Thanksgiving. Between Cosmic Otters gigs, running off to Florida for a conference, visiting Mom over Christmas, and other goings on, it's been one heck of a busy holiday season. It's only a brief hiatus for the insanity, however, as the mass out-of-townage will continue at the beginning of February, most notably a Friday-Saturday-Sunday Cosmic Otters tour of Missouri and Iowa that is sure to leave us exhausted.
In all of this travel, my car hit 100,000 miles. Meg made me get out of the car and she snapped a photo. For the record, this is on I-55 about 10 miles north of the Missouri border heading south.
On the way, we ran into some interesting artwork performed on an abandoned Wendy's sign near Springfield:
I wonder what the sign originally said.
Last Friday, we were invited to a whisk(e)y1 tasting party at one of our friend's apartments.2 We got to try everything from Kentucky bourbon to Scottish single-malts to a very bizarre vanilla-infused novelty whiskey.
Here was the lineup:
A good time was had by all. I was most pleasantly surprised by the Connemara, which was an Irish single-malt that tasted very pleasantly smoky and peaty. It could have come from Scotland and I wouldn't have been any the wiser.
All this talk of whisky makes me think fondly of our annual Burns Supper which is fast approaching. We are a bit concerned that the invite list is topping 50 people. We managed to fit 30 in the apartment last year, and that was pushing it. I guess we'll just wait and see what happens.
1Countries that have an 'e' in their name spell it whiskey, and countries that do not spell it whisky... or at least that's what I was told.
2Actually, it's a parsonage, but that's another story.