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Serendipitous mint
"So you just wander around Evanston carrying a bag with the ingredients for mint juleps?"
At the risk of deflating my mystique, I must honestly answer "Not usually." On the other hand, I'm so embarrassed by the truth of the matter, that I would never have admitted it at all had I not been caught out by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu as a result of a stranger's generosity.
But let's start at the beginning: I'm heading to a film-viewing party. It's Derby Day and they're'll be at least one other present who appreciates what that means, so I decide my contribution will be the fixings for mint juleps. On my way, I pick up two bunches of fresh mint, a bottle of Makers Mark, a box of castor sugar, and a few limes for those who might prefer mojitos.
I'm not sure I can recognise which door in the block of condos I'm supposed to go into, but fortunatelyrollick is out front gardening. "So, were you just in the neighbourhood and decided to stop by or are you did you come early for tomorrow?" NO. WAY. But she's just finishing up and invites me in for a drink of water and a little conversation. Still, she has things to do and my mind is already sizing up my other options. I'm hoping to go to Bear Night at Touché's later and I know if I go home, I'll never come back up for that.
So when I strike out, I try to retrace the path to the condo of Rubeus (a longtime adherent of the paint can method of julepping) and ottr4bear. They're home, but about to go out for dinner with a friend who's just recently lost someone close to her in a freak swimming accident. I tell them no problem, that's understandable, and begin mentally assembling a Plan C. But before I can make my dash, their friends arrive; I come out with excuses, but she who I shall call "The Woman Who Knows Everyone" refused to listen and insists I stay.
Someone suggests having a drink while we decide where to eat. I announce that I've got makings for mint juleps and begin pulling the ingredients from my bag. When she sees the mint, WWKE says, "You know what I'm really in the mood for is a mojito!" That's when I pull the limes from my bag and my position as thaumaturge is cemented. (At least until I get to the kitchen and it occurs to me that I don't have the faintest idea what the proper proportions are.)
So that's more or less how I ended up at a stealth-Greek restaurant in Rogers Park being bought drinks by an alderman. I never did make it to Bear Night, but as a result of this chance meeting I was able to secure a ticket formonshu to see the Dalai Lama on Sunday. But that's a different tale and not mine to tell.
At the risk of deflating my mystique, I must honestly answer "Not usually." On the other hand, I'm so embarrassed by the truth of the matter, that I would never have admitted it at all had I not been caught out by
monshu as a result of a stranger's generosity.But let's start at the beginning: I'm heading to a film-viewing party. It's Derby Day and they're'll be at least one other present who appreciates what that means, so I decide my contribution will be the fixings for mint juleps. On my way, I pick up two bunches of fresh mint, a bottle of Makers Mark, a box of castor sugar, and a few limes for those who might prefer mojitos.
I'm not sure I can recognise which door in the block of condos I'm supposed to go into, but fortunately
rollick is out front gardening. "So, were you just in the neighbourhood and decided to stop by or are you did you come early for tomorrow?" NO. WAY. But she's just finishing up and invites me in for a drink of water and a little conversation. Still, she has things to do and my mind is already sizing up my other options. I'm hoping to go to Bear Night at Touché's later and I know if I go home, I'll never come back up for that.So when I strike out, I try to retrace the path to the condo of Rubeus (a longtime adherent of the paint can method of julepping) and ottr4bear. They're home, but about to go out for dinner with a friend who's just recently lost someone close to her in a freak swimming accident. I tell them no problem, that's understandable, and begin mentally assembling a Plan C. But before I can make my dash, their friends arrive; I come out with excuses, but she who I shall call "The Woman Who Knows Everyone" refused to listen and insists I stay.
Someone suggests having a drink while we decide where to eat. I announce that I've got makings for mint juleps and begin pulling the ingredients from my bag. When she sees the mint, WWKE says, "You know what I'm really in the mood for is a mojito!" That's when I pull the limes from my bag and my position as thaumaturge is cemented. (At least until I get to the kitchen and it occurs to me that I don't have the faintest idea what the proper proportions are.)
So that's more or less how I ended up at a stealth-Greek restaurant in Rogers Park being bought drinks by an alderman. I never did make it to Bear Night, but as a result of this chance meeting I was able to secure a ticket for
monshu to see the Dalai Lama on Sunday. But that's a different tale and not mine to tell.
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Still, it remains true that I am in full-on Grump mode.
My sister will be in town for Memorial Day weekend. We should have a cookout or something.
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(Shouldn't that be 'leres? or 'hleres?)
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