Tag Archives: food

Sedgley Place

 

Dinner with friends a while back was here.

 

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A renovated old Federal House built in 1786.

Getting a reservation is tough as they only do 3 seatings a night, but it’s well worth the wait.

Walking in, I’m always struck by the low ceilings and even lower lamp placement.

 

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I know we were a shorter race of people back in 1786…

But were we that short?

 

 

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There was a raucous crowd of 95 downstairs, celebrating someone’s 50th birthday. I would dearly have loved to join them, ( some arrived in a hearse!)  but our waitress escorted us up the stairs.

 

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To a quiet dining room with dated wallpaper and curtains, where we were given the menu.

 

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It changes weekly, and all meals are 5 course for $36.95.

 

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You’re welcome.

And thank you for the fine Patron margaritas….

 

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Okay, this is getting out of hand.

The food was lovely.

 

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Home baked wheat bread with honey butter.

Scallop stuffed mushroom caps… which I ate too quickly to photograph.

 

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Caesar salad.

 

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Bacon wrapped Filet mignon with sweet fig demi glace, medium rare and tender enough to slice with your spoon.

I was too full for dessert but since it was included, the husband had his white chocolate raspberry cheesecake there… and took mine to go.

 

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We waddled out some time later, only to be blocked in by the hearse.

Seriously… you have to love people who rent hearse transportation for their birthday parties.

I didn’t even know that was possible.

 

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But now I totally want to pick up the girls for a night out sometime soon!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorry, but these are just too good.

 

Yes… I’m knee deep in my Spam folder again.

Apologies, but this stuff is comedic gold.

Arden writes:

Hi there, јust became ɑware of ykur bloɡ thfough Google,
and foսnd that it is really informative. I ɑm ɡoing to watch out for Ƅrussels.

Which is helpful…

Because you never know where they’ll turn up.

 

jhgfdshbxn

 

918kiss for ios

pokies get people from all through the world arrive together just for fun.

Of course they do.

It’s a perfectly delightful dance.

 

h8994AD22

 

Pasquale Mcalexander

some genuinely interesting information, well written and broadly speaking user friendly.

Good to know, as I always strive to provide content for the simple minded.

 

stupid-people_01

 

 

Bill

I will right away snatch your rss as I can not find your email subscription link or newsletter service.

When I first read this, I thought it said he was going to snatch my ass because he couldn’t find an email link.

 

yikes-wow-that-was-an-overreaction

 

Hey, my blogs are good.

But not that good….

 

Sushi By 7-11

Hello everyone, it’s my first visit at this web site, and article is
really fruitful designed for me

While their appreciation of my fruit is noted, I’m not sure anyone who buys their Sushi at 7-11 can really be trusted.

I mean come on, their potato chips aren’t even fresh.

 

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And finally..

Hanh Bencomo

Who seems to be on the fence when it comes to my posts…

There are some attention-grabbing time limits in this article but I don’t know if I see all of them heart to heart. There may be some validity however I’ll take hold opinion till I look into it further

 

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I really don’t see what the problem is.

I’m a frickin’ delight.

 

 

Bad idea…. really bad.

 

Yes.

I admit to drinking the occasional Coca Cola.

 

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And yes.

I know it’s not healthy….

 

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Alright, that’s disturbing.

But I probably only drink one or two a month, like dessert.

It’s sugary enough to satisfy my sweet tooth…. and hey.

If it can clean the corrosion off a car battery? It can do the same to my colon. Everybody wins.

I’m not going to get into the Coke vs Pepsi debate…

Because there’s really only one acceptable way to drink Pepsi.

 

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And while I do find Cherry Coke acceptable now and then?

I’ve never tasted another flavor I could tolerate and have to wonder why they keep putting new ones on the market.

It’s Coke.

It has 7,000 tablespoons of sugar per ounce and two cans will put you into diabetic coma. I get it. Now leave it alone and stop trying to invent new ways for us to drink it.

(Please note this does not stop me from trying every single one. Hope springs eternal.)

The latest roll out?

 

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Orange vanilla.

I had visions of a Creamsicle Coke!

It works for martinis… why not Coke.

How bad could it be?

Answer-

Bad.

Very, very bad.

 

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Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

Pour it directly on your corroded car battery (or filthy toilet) and be done with it.

I wouldn’t have thought it possible to screw up orange vanilla anything, but they did.

Give it a wide berth on the grocery aisle. Tasting like radioactive waste might not be a coincidence…

It’s that bad.

 

 

 

 

 

Where’s the fish?

 

We love trying new restaurants and supporting small local businesses, so when Urban Element opened?

We were all in.

 

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Do you love me?

Am I supposed to love you?

I just walked in…

Stop trying so hard.

 

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The new trend in restaurant decor in Maine seems to be minimalist rustic. While I’m fine with barn boards and a lack of clutter….

 

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The chairs that are popping up everywhere seriously make me want to scream.

They’re metal, with small seats and side bars that painfully pin you in place. Definitely not for the amply hipped who walk amongst us.

If the plan is to get you in and out quickly?

These rustic torture devices do the trick.

 

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It was Sunday afternoon at 2:00. And a couple of Happy Time Fizz cocktails made me quite happy indeed….

But here’s another trend that continues to tick me off.

Brunch.

 

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I understand, it’s the weekend. You don’t get up early, and you want to eat breakfast late. Fine.

But it’s 2:00pm people! If you just recently rolled out of bed? You’re a teenage stoner sleeping one off and can’t afford these prices anyway.

To me, 2:00pm means lunch…even on Sunday. I had eaten breakfast 7 hours ago and didn’t feel the need to repeat the process.

The specials? All breakfast. The menu? 99% breakfast with one exception. The fried haddock sandwich.

Great.

Bring it…

 

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They brought it..

But damn.

 

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I’ve had thicker fish sandwiches at McDonalds and I wasn’t even sure that was fish.

 

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Mentally tallying up the reasons we weren’t apt to go back to this restaurant, I did what any normal  (still rather hungry from lack of fish)  girl would do.

 

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I drowned my sorrows in flourless chocolate torte.

 

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That’s my kind of math.

 

 

 

Because nothing ever goes smoothly.

As we were driving down to Phoenix, I checked my Delta mobile app and saw that not only had our flight been cancelled due to bad weather, but that we’d been scheduled for one the following day… which was forecast to be an even worse storm.

Thinking oh Hell no, I called the airline and argued, cursed, berated,  begged, pleaded, flirted, and okay…. promised a future child to secure us a flight for that day.

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It worked, but we couldn’t fly into Maine as planned and could only get as far as Boston. This forced the husband to frantically scour his phone contacts to see which friend he could talk into driving south 3 hours in a raging blizzard to pick us up.

You find out who your true friends are in situations like that.

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Yeah.

Because I can’t honestly say I would have done it.

And now….

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The required  she has to have the window seat so she can take pictures even though she has no idea where or what they are  aerial photos.

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No matter how many times I fly…

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I’m always that geeky kid who gets a huge kick out of looking down on our world.

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The ever changing landscapes never cease to thrill me.

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The grandeur of the mountains…

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The ridiculous giant tiddly winks….

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It’s all good.

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What do you do with a 4 hour layover in Minneapolis?

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You drink….

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You eat a surprisingly decent shrimp alfredo….

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And watch this cowpoke couple play video games without speaking to each other for over an hour and a half.

Not one word.

Ah, modern living. Where the art of conversation is well and truly dead.

Long story short…

( Who am I kidding, I’ve never told a short story in my life. This vacation was 2 weeks long and it’s taken me 48 days to blog about it. But in my defense? There were a lot of rocks.)

We arrived home exhausted at 4:30 am… after a nail biting  (just an expression, I pay way too much for these babies to nibble)  5 hour  (should have taken 2.5)  snow blinded  (there must have been a road, but we didn’t see it)  ice covered  (slipperier than a Trump family lawyer)  drive.

The end.

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No, truly.

No more rocks, no more vacation pics.

I don’t even have the next trip planned yet.

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And now..

Back to your regularly scheduled program.

It’s all about the rocks… and some food.

Our last meal in Sedona was a late lunch and of course, it turned out to be the best restaurant we found during our two week trip.

Yes Martin, this is a food filled post.

You’re welcome.

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Perched on top of a hill, the Mariposa Grille had some great views.  (Of rocks.)

Mariposa means butterfly in Spanish, and they featured prominently in the decor at this Latin themed beauty.

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Views  (And rocks! Did you see the rocks?)  aside..

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It was a large…

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And rather impressive place.

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I mean hey, check out that door.

It’s made of rocks!

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There was live music with a Spanish guitar, and more beautiful views.

(Of rocks!)

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I ordered a few Caipirinhas… the national drink of Brazil.

Just to get in the proper mood and spirit of the place.

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And then on the advice of the waiter, we tried the Yuca fries.

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Not to be confused with Yucca… which apparently tastes like soap… the Yuca were too die for!

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To be honest, I had no idea what they were at that point.

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But had I Googled this Yuca meme beforehand?

I most assuredly would have passed.

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Lunch for me was the Funghi Sublime. And sublime it was.

 Scottsdale Burger Battle Judges’s Choice Winner 2018 ~ Smothered in sauteed Mushrooms, finished with imported Truffle Cheese and Truffle Dijonnaise

That burger positively melted in my mouth and was expertly cooked.

My husband ordered the Senor Fish, and was not disappointed either.

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Pan-Fried and Seasoned with their House Rub, Lemon-Caper Aioli, and Shredded Romaine, on a Whole Grain Bun accompanied by 3 Seed Coleslaw.

This was an upscale South American restaurant with Latin inspired cuisine, and everything was served on the most wonderful plates. (Rocks! They were made from rocks!)   I wish we’d found it sooner and been able to go back for a full dinner. I’m sure it would have been marvelous.

How upscale you ask?

There was some interesting artwork hanging on the walls…

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Made with some rather expensive rocks.

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And they were all for sale.

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Yeah.

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Rocks.

Ya gotta love ’em.

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But maybe not that much.

Funky trees, metal warrior women and some dinosaur dung.

 

Tlaquepaque – the sequel.

Trees.

 

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They were everywhere in this quaint shopping village.

 

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And allowed to go pretty much anywhere…

 

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Which was environmentally friendly…

 

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And at times, down right comical.

 

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There was a strange bird with red peppers on it’s head…

 

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And naked warrior women made out of metal.

 

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Also with birds.

Tell the truth…. how many of you men actually noticed the bird?

 

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We walked by Albert again…

 

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And into a store that sold dinosaur poo.

 

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Supposedly authentic… which caused my husband to snort.

Like you could you tell?

 

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The village was lovely.

 

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With a distinct Spanish flavor.

 

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Which probably explains why the French cafe where we had lunch was so absolutely un-French.

 

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It had a slight Gallic atmosphere.

 

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And yes, French Onion soup.

 

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But the closest the menu came to French cuisine was my uninspired, build it yourself chicken salad sandwich on a croissant.

 

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The husband’s?

 

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Might have had Grey Poupon.

Ooh La La Lame.

 

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Finishing our circuit, we stopped at a Native American jewelry store. The prices were high, and though tempted…. I was going to walk out empty handed until the husband started talking.

When the husband starts talking? I know we’re going to be there a while and resumed shopping. Seriously this time.

So it really was his fault I spent a large chunk of change on this bracelet.

 

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Yup.

His fault.

 

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On our way out, a giant aloe vera plant threatened to swallow him whole while he gazed at a statue…

 

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No. Not really…

But I totally would have posted that video to YouTube if it had.

 

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Said statue.

 

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Fountain.

Or tiny public bathtub, tough call.

 

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Cat statue, directly opposite a pot filled with….

 

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That can’t be a coincidence.

Washouts, floating snakes and a giant potato.

Leaving Winslow, Arizona you see a lot of….

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Until you see these…

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And start looking for a restaurant here…

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We’d heard there was a wonderful place to eat dinner at the Orchard.

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Unfortunately…

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We didn’t bring our white water landing craft.

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This is what happens in Oak Creek Canyon, Arizona when it rains.

And mind you, I’m not talking about torrential downpours. The rain we’d had the night before wouldn’t have been enough to properly soak my garden back home in Maine.

But road after road, and driveway after driveway were impassable.

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Except for snakes.

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Apparently those suckers float right on by.

By the time we got back to Sedona it was dark, and we ended up here.

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A well reviewed steakhouse.

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It was pleasant…

And I was thirsty.

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To hell with doctors orders, I’d been a good girl and was feeling fine.

Prickly pear pomegranite cosmo?

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Come to momma!

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The salads were lovely with fresh local greens, candied pecans, goat cheese and pears with a tangy citrus vinaigrette.

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The yeast rolls with sea salt cultured butter? Light as air…

And yes, I ate 3.

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But the steaks?

Ooh la la!

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My filet mignon with truffle butter was everything you want a steak to be.

Of course for $52 it should be.

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And my baked potato was huge.

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Well, not quite.

But damn…

Now I totally want to go to the potato museum!

Canadian Potato Museum PEI

The Canadian Potato Museum is a living testament to the humble tuber and those who have tilled the soil in its evolution. 

We celebrate all things “potato”.

Highlights include the world’s largest exhibits of potato-related farm machinery, agricultural and Community artifacts and the world’s largest potato sculpture.

The world’s largest potato sculpture?

It doesn’t get much better than that!

Who’s with me?

Great!

B.Y.O.P.

(Bring your own peeler)

Armadillo eggs, mammoth bones… and shoes.

 

After our disappointing visit to the  (guess I’m not so clever after all)  corner in Winslow, we noticed there was a local museum down the road. Small town museums are usually a hoot, filled with ridiculous stuff only the locals care about… and we try never to miss one.

But first, lunch.

Because otherwise Martin will unfriend me.

 

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There weren’t a lot of choices in dear old Winslow, so we picked the one that said beer.

 

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Not that I could drink since my no alcohol order was still in place…but it was probably a good thing, because the beer list was annoying.

 

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Instead of… what?

The beer gets… what?

 

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Fresh orchard like …  what?

Open ended sentences do not make me want to order your beer, they make me want to bounce your menu writer’s face off the bar a few times and then force him to finish his description.

And don’t get me started on naming the beers piehole and sex panther. There’s such a thing as trying too hard.

The decor? Early junkyard.

 

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Our hightop table was an upended road sign.

Chipping paint no extra charge.

 

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The menu?

It had the required Eagle references, and some truly awful sounding food.

 

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Armadillo eggs?

Thank you…. No.

 

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The southwest burger I ordered rare was a well done hockey puck… and just about as tender.

 

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The husband’s Caesar salad? A giant bowl of husks.

 

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Thankfully the museum turned out to be much more palatable.

 

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We were greeted by a local woman who gave us the entire history of the town, whether we wanted it or not.

Once a booming Santa Fe railroad stop, and then a profitable Route 66 destination… the town fell on hard times when families stopped piling the kids in station wagons and hitting the road in search of the World’s Largest Ball of Twine. If it weren’t for the Eagles and their silly song, the place would have dried up and blown away long ago.

 

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Mammoth bone.

Because I promised.

 

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Native American beaded shoes.

Because… shoes!

 

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There was a still.

 

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And a box.

I told you this would be fascinating stuff….

 

 

Have you ever heard of the Harvey Girls?

 

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I admit I hadn’t, and my mind is full of  perfectly useless nonsense  trivia so that’s saying something.

(Pay attention… tomorrow’s post will include an actual Harvey House.)

 

 

Naturally, there was a locally famous Harvey girl.

 

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And some of her dresses.

 

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There was also an advertisement that pretty much says all you need to know about Winslow, Arizona.

 

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What’s not to love?

Uptown Sedona, where I meet a prickly footed lizard.

After checking in to our new resort, we decided to enjoy the beautiful day and take a walk around uptown Sedona… an area filled with shops, restaurants, street performers and the occasional lizard. Who knew?

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It’s a lovely spot with a stunning red rock backdrop.

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I have no idea what these were… and was almost afraid to ask.

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But there was a large horse…

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With a really large gun and a Christmas wreath.

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This fellow drew a crowd by twirling a length of PVC pipe.

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I spotted my first roadrunners…

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Sadly, they were metal and wearing bandanas.

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This t shirt seemed appropriate considering our current political climate.

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I wanted to buy this one. It reminded me of my misspent youth, but the husband was not amused.

And then, as we were walking by a large group of people….

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Someone handed me a gecko.

Why? I’m not quite sure…

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But he was lovely, with prickly little feet.

And I kind of hated to give him back.

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Moving on, the husband tried his hand at whatever this was. The results were not audio worthy, trust me.

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We found an extremely jarring bright green patch of astroturf in front of  a pizza parlor and could only ask… why?

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And then some hot pink Javelinas with White Walker eyes. (Game of Thrones reference. Winter is Coming!)

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They were displayed in front of the Pink Adventure Center whose bright pink Jeeps you can’t escape in Sedona. They’re everywhere and specialize in off road tours of the red rocks. I seriously wanted to take one, but the husband was not in the least bit interested.

Boo husband.

On the way to lunch. we passed this woman who clearly had been shopping too long….

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It took a while to choose, but when I saw the chicken (Goose? Dinosaur?) tracks…

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I knew I’d found a suitable place.

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We sat outside.

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With a killer view.

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I got a little teary eyed at not being able to order the Prickly Pear Margarita.

Because yes … I was still observing the doctor’s alcohol ban, dammit.

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The husband ordered the massive Southwest Chicken salad..

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While I had a lovely patty melt and sweet potato fries.

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After eating, we bid farewell to the Buffalo…

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And I choked back a sob as we passed the bar…

(Okay, I may have openly wept. I’m not proud of it.)

And we headed back to the resort.

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Passing more decoratively painted Javelinas.

Who knew they were so stylish?