Hurling Sharp Objects As A Family & I’m Nuts About Banana Pancakes

Since the Coach and I had been globetrotting seeing the south (GA, TN, KY) we weren’t home to celebrate Coach’s birthday (10/14) with the kiddos; this past weekend we rectified that. The girls and Nathan treated us to Axe Throwing, Whiskey and Dinner.

I skipped the whiskey part and I probably should have skipped the axe throwing. I might have thrown 100 axes, and only ONE axe stuck in the wall and it wasn’t even close to the red bullseye which were the only ones we were counting.

I was contemplating getting mad about not landing the axe, then I remembered that maybe my strengths are limited to raising butterflies, sorting recyclables like my life depends on it, writing witty blog posts and doing laundry like it’s an olympic sport.

I was the bonafide loser, but I still had fun; to quote that asshat Charlie Sheen: WINNING!

My girls were good at this, as were Coach and Nathan. Nathan was doing so well, that he started throwing underhand to challenge himself. If I didn’t love him so much, I’d say that was annoying, but it was really entertaining.

I played two rounds of pool; one with Coach (he kicked my azz) and one with Lolo. (a lucky win for me) We had a nice, casual dinner together filled with witty banter. Oh, how I love witty banter.

It’s so nice to see our people, even for a few hours. We have so much fun and I appreciate our time together. I know that many families have strained relationships with their kids, in-laws, etc and I can’t imagine NOT having what we have, which is a boatload of laughter.

Recently, I heard someone mention on a podcast about a banana/egg/pancake easy peasy recipe and I was intrigued. I fell down a rabbit hole of videos for said recipe and I’m obsessed.

*I use one banana, two eggs, a dash of cinnamon, a small scoop of vanilla plant protein and whatever nuts I have on hand, because I’m nuts. And I enjoy being nutty.

They are very tasty, filling and take about four minutes to make.

That’s all I have to say about axes and pancakes.

Have you thrown any sharp objects lately? What are your thoughts on NUTTY banana pancakes?


Louis, Louis, Part Two. A Ring Grabber & Delayed Celebrations.

I gave you my first impression after arriving to the hotel in Louisville and our interesting conversation with the receptionist; I still giggle when I think about her. She was sweet, but obviously didn’t have a lot of life/social skills.

While we were checking in, I was reading a placard on the wall about the Famous dish that this hotel is known for: the creation of the Hot Brown.

I can’t tell you where my brain went when I first read Hot Brown…but that’s only because inside I’m still 13 years old.

Ten minutes after unpacking we headed downstairs to the restaurant because this girl, as usual was hungry and now I needed a Hot Brown.

We walked up to the hostess stand and upon my quick gaze across the restaurant, I’d noticed the place was pretty busy which is a good sign even though, the place looked like our room: Tired.

The hostess sat us down and she stood in front of our table (and me) for a moment when a waitress came around the corner, saw the Coach and said: Hey Gentlemen, I’ll be right with you.

We smirked, I said in my deepest voice: THANK YOU, as she passed the hostess, then caught a glimpse of me who is indeed not a man. Hell, I’m not even a manly girl, but stuff like this does not offend me.

A few minutes later the waitress who mistook me for a man approached our table with a bazillion apologies OVER AND OVER; not necessary, but could you please take my food order before I nibble on your hand?

Speaking of hands…

All of a sudden, she looked at my left hand, GASPED and then GRABBED my ring while my hand that was still attached, followed!

I was caught off guard by her reaction, but decided that if I shanked her for this infraction, it could possibly delay my lunch.

She told me how gorgeous my ring was, I thanked her and explained that it was a gift ‘from this guy for our 25th anniversary,’ as I pointed at Coach.

Finally, after she thought I was a man, apologized profusely, grabbed my Rock and took our order, (we both ordered a petite Hot Brown), she was gone.

THREE MINUTES LATER another waitress dropped two petite Hot Browns on our table.

We were surprised, as the other tables around us, who had been there before we sat down still didn’t have food.

We let the waitress know immediately these must not be ours and she quickly took them to the next table. Those people said: nope, not ours. She continued to the next table: those people also said NOPE, not ours.

Finally our Ring grabbing waitress came by and said that the Now Traveling Petite Hot Brown’s were, in fact, ours.

Our Hot Brown’s were delicious; I gave my perfectly crisped and cholesterol filled bacon to the Coach.

We started eating and the Coach noticed one of the tables behind me started complaining to the waitress that they were waiting forever for their food.

ME: Just keep eating. I’m not giving up my plate again

We enjoyed our lunch and I felt a nap coming on. I was ready to get to our Deluxe Celebrity Suite, so we asked our weirdly inappropriate waitress for our check. She said: PLEASE, JUST HOLD ON, I HAVE SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU.

Can you even guess what she had for us?

I think I should hold off sharing and let you guys guess.





I can’t wait any longer!

She proudly brought us a flaming anniversary cake. Mind you, our 25th anniversary was 6 years, 4 months, 26 days ago.

That’s hot.

We just gave each other ‘a look’, thanked the waitress and nibbled on the cake that we didn’t really want. We’re not rude.

Some other highlights from our weekend: My girlfriend Aimee’s shirt said: I’m 50 Bitches! Which made me laugh every time I looked at her. We hung out at an inside/outside bar for a few hours on Saturday afternoon. It was fun to people watch; I had my first Moscow Mule and I wasn’t even in Moscow!

We had an amazing dinner at Repeal Steakhouse. We’d ordered way too much food. I had the waiter wrap it up for us and on our Uber ride back to the hotel we had the driver stop and Coach delivered the food to a very appreciative homeless gentleman.

I was shocked at the amount of homeless people in Louisville. It’s not the norm in our town.

We noticed there were NO police officers seen over our weekend. I’m not a fan of that since there were shady characters on every corner and I’m not referring to our friends. Did Kentucky defund the Popo?

Anyone celebrate a fake holiday to avoid an awkward conversation? Have you had a Moscow Mule while in Moscow or anywhere?


Louis-Louis, You’re How Old? Sharing Rooms With Weird Celebrities.

Last weekend the Coach and I took a little trip to Louisville, Kentucky to celebrate a friends 50th birthday. Why Louisville you ask? Well, these particular friends are connoisseurs of bourbon and apparently Kentucky is a Bourbon Mecca.

*Picture me wandering around looking for a wine bar in the land of whiskey.*

The Coach and I flew direct from GA and we were there in no time. I’d never been to Kentucky before and honestly, I had to look it up on a map for reference.

Is Kentucky considered The South? The North? Are Kentuckians considered Yankees? Midwesterners?


This might be the one time Coach booked a hotel room without checking it out first.

Did you know he is our/my travel agent? I don’t generally book rooms. Or flights. Or cars. Or criminals.

Me all the time: Where are we going? What time do I need to be ready? Do I need to pack my Hokas?

Our friends chose the hotel, so the Coach booked a room there. Let me add, we (he) waited until almost the last minute to book and all that was left was a very expensive suite.

A minute before we land. Me: Are we getting an Uber?

Coach: No, I rented a car.

See. I have no idea wha’t going on.

Hey, can someone explain to me what a Kept Woman is?

Anyhoo. We arrive at the hotel about 20 minutes after landing because my travel agent doesn’t eff around.

I had some clues, some red flags, as as you say as soon as we hit the valet stand that this ain’t no Four Seasons. This MIGHT be a Two Seasons on a good day.

This is a Historic Hotel, but that doesn’t mean everything should feel old and unkept. Right?

The Coach and I give our bags to the valet guy and then find the happy-to-help-us, very young, Receptionist. We were exchanging pleasantries as she checked us in.

Receptionist: So, what are you in town for?

We explain that we’re here to celebrate a friends 50th birthday.

Y’all. I’m not exagerattting. Her jaw dropped. Her eyes were bugging out. She was astonished as she said: F I F T Y?

It’s like she didn’t know people lived to be FIFTY.

And then, like a novice in the world as she’d never been told the things you don’t ask people: she asked us how old we were.


And us, being astonished and caught off guard, wondering when she would ask our religious views, political party affiliation and our annual income, well, we told her our ages.

She replied with:

You don’t look over 50!


And Oh, you’re in the suite? That SUITE!

Someone famous stayed in that SUITE!

I have a feeling she wasn’t supposed to gossip, but It took me all of four seconds to get her to spill the beans.

Have you ever heard of: Mel lost.his.marbles Gibson?

Yeah, that celebrity.

The Coach and I, still kind of astonished at what just transpired, head up to our CELEBRITY SUITE and once inside I declared that Mel must have stayed here around the time he filmed Lethal Weapon and this place hasn’t been updated since then.

I’m not a snob. (ok, just a tad) But if this hotel had an emotion, it would be Tired af.

But the funny thing is, we learned later that night that Mel out.of.touch.with.reality Gibson was actually there the weekend prior to us and not thirty seven years ago.

Times must be hard for him if he’s sinking to our level.


The room was ridiculously overpriced and certainly not a place you’d keep your eyes peeled for celebrities. I mean, unless you’re looking an accomplished softball famous Coach and A not-really well known Blogger.

He’s not a regular Coach, he’s a Luxury Coach.

The next morning while I was in the shower, I had a moment where I thought: Hell, Mel showered in here, and now here I am. I mean, it’s almost like we showered together. Right? Dang, I’ve already slept with Gary Busey, might as well add Mel to my Busy Bee Harlot List.

Within twenty minutes of settling into our old, outdated Celebrity Suite, we had another funny encounter in the restaurant, but you’ll have to wait till next week.

I know. How will you get through the weekend?

Anyone else check into a hotel that immediately gave you a bad/weird impression? Are you the one in charge of travel plans? How about people asking personal questions?


The Lillie Saga~

*Let Me Get This Out Of The Way.

*I’ve started this post a few times over the past (goes to calendar) almost three weeks and I need to just put it on the blog and move onto sunshiny things.

Lillie’s surgeon, who removed the large mast cell tumor said she probably didn’t need any further treatment, but said I could visit an oncologist just to be sure.

I don’t know if I fully expressed how much of an ordeal it was getting her prepped for the mast cell removal and all the complications prior to and after surgery. IT WAS A LOT. I was so happy when it was all said and done and didn’t want to take any chances of having to put her (or us) through it again, which is why I decided on a consultation with the oncologist.

Well Dr. Doggie Oncologist said she should be fine, but let’s keep an eye on her for recurring lumps and come back in one month.

The night that we had to put Callie down, I was hugging on Lillie when I felt some lumps. New lumps. It was just two weeks prior that I’d had a consultation with a Doggie Oncologist. TWO WEEKS.

We started her on an oral chemotherapy three days a week; along with Prilosec (to ward off stomach ulcers) and Benadryl. (the tumors put off histamines) she was doing fairly well, aside from her appetite decreasing.

Coach and I were gone for 12 days and my amazing mother in law became The Full Time Dog Nurse/Nanny.

When we got home, I found an even larger lump on her back and the others were increasing in size. Rapidly.

I’ll never tire of that photo.

I took her back to Dr. Doggie Oncologist yesterday and she confirmed my fears: The cancer was back and this time with gusto.

I had two choices. Put her on Palliative care for the duration of her days.

Or try another chemotherapy that she gets at the office once a week for four weeks, then every other week. She assured me that the injection takes less than 15 minutes and 80% of dogs have zero side effects; therefore she will still have quality of life as opposed to when humans have Chemo.

I opted for the injections. Even with those, we are just buying time.

You should have seen me in the Dr’s office yesterday. A blubbering mess. Wait, maybe you shouldn’t HAVE seen me. Anyhoo, I’m wrapping my brain around it all and we will move forward as best as we can.

Not looking for sympathy, really, but it’s something I need to blog about since it’s part of this blog’s history.

I have some funny shit to share and I’ll do it very soon. Like, maybe tomorrow.