The driving tour of the Yorktown, Virginia battlefield was a strange one and meandered all over the place.

 

 

Through the woods.

 

 

And past open fields with miles of split rail fencing.

Seriously, it went on forever.

 

 

 

There were creeks and swamps.

 

 

And every now and then, a sign.

 

 

We saw plenty of fluffy white butts.

 

 

And they roamed at will.

 

 

We even made friends with a few.

 

 

This little beauty had no fear and sidled right up next to my window.

 

 

Up our way that would be dangerous.

But this was protected land and they knew it.

 

 

Near the end of the tour we saw something a bit odd.

 

 

A buck with a funky horn.

 

 

And while I can’t say I’ve ever had to tote a rack around  (on my head anyway)  this did look a little strange.

 

 

 

 

 

So this was December 23rd and the husband had spent the last 48 hours trying to talk me into driving down to North Carolina for Christmas Day. When we’re on a trip for the holidays? We usually let it pass without much fanfare. No exchange of gifts, maybe just a special meal. But since our daughter of the heart came to visit with us those few days… he was bound and determined we would celebrate with her this time.

While I normally would have agreed, she had a slew of family members staying the night in a one bathroom house and I didn’t want to stress her anymore than necessary. We checked a few hotels in the area but all of them were full. Husband wanted to go for the day…. but it was a 4+ hour ride down and a 4+ hour ride back. Almost 9 hours on the road is not my idea of a fun Christmas… but he wore me down. Which meant we had to spend the rest of that day (and night) shopping for gifts because I wouldn’t go empty handed.

And leave it to me to decide on the one gift that was utterly unfindable on the 23rd of December. And believe me we tried.

Yup.

I had to give her this.

 

 

Because she loves wine…. but can no longer drink it because it gives her headaches.

I was going to give her the gift of wine back! Or die trying.

Which we nearly did.

We tried every single freakin’ store for 150 miles. Large malls and small gift shops. Specialty stores and wine outlets. Big chains and obscure holes in the hall. We walked, we searched, we cursed.  (Okay, maybe that was just me.)  We shopped until we almost dropped. Everyone had heard of it… very few carried it. And if they did carry it? They were sold out by the time we got there.

Do you know how aggravating it is to look for something for 7 hours straight and then be told by a laughing salesclerk, “Oh, we just sold the last one 10 minutes ago. You should have been quicker.”  That woman is lucky she still has her tongue…. because if I could have reached the butcher knife on the other side of the counter? She’d be laughing with a bloody stump right now.

And if that isn’t bad enough?

I didn’t find the perfect gift, but I did find this:

 

 

No.

No…

Noooo!

This is wrong on so many levels … I can’t even. What twisted soul thought, “How can I take a perfectly good candy and ruin it beyond all measure? I know… I’ll add Kale!”

All over the world children are weeping. I hope you’re satisfied Archie.

At 9:30 that night the husband was screaming Uncle…. and grumbling about food. We were both too exhausted to care at that point and stopped at the first place on the way back to the resort. An Outback Steakhouse.

I’m not a lover of chain restaurants and hadn’t been to one of these in 20 years.

 

 

But $5 Boozy Cherry Limeades sounded pretty good….

And for that price? I had 3.

 

 

Their Blue Cheese Wedge salad left a lot to be desired…. and the husband’s French Onion soup was only fair.

 

 

But his filet was blood rare and he made short work of it.

 

 

My grilled filet and shrimp skewer combo was filling…. and I’ll leave it at that.

There’s a reason we’re not chain restaurant fans, and if we don’t go back for another 20 years?

I’m okay with that.