Other People's Holiday

So.

Holiday weekend. For us, a very different holiday weekend in that we are now a part of other people's holiday weekends.

Prior to this, we'd have planned a picnic. There would have been floods of e-mails circulating among the three households -- Linguiniland, DG's house and John Boy up on his mountain. I would be running about throwing together noodle salads (heh...), DG would be gathering meat and John Boy would be assembling beer in the oldest cooler in the country (it's aqua and you can still barely make out a Ballentine beer logo on the front -- my parents earned it as a premium when we owned a store with a liquor license, though I suspect my father could have earned the points required without the aid of any of our customers. I was five when they got it...DG wasn't even born. I'm not even sure it functions as a cooler anymore; more as a holding container for beer and a lot of ice. I wouldn't put the noodle salad in there, though...)

Things were different this year. This year the Memorial Day weekend was all about the cafe because, for the most part, we are (meaning, the cafe is...) a component of other people's weekend.

I love the idea of people planning to visit us for breakfast as part of their total holiday itinerary; or that the cafe is used as a reward to well-behaved children enduring hours of grocery shopping for Monday's BBQ; or that the cafe is where our local customers take their out-of-town guests for their one night-out dining experience. I mean, isn't that so cool?

It does mean that now we have to grab our piece of the holiday when we can get it. And we do...

John Boy dropped by Saturday to sit in on the guys' preparations for the cafe's first Open Mike Night on Friday.

And, yes...we closed early on Memorial Day so we could relax a bit...

NOT all MY Empties

Ahem...well, so I could relax a bit...

 

 while DG and Heir 1 took care of the food... 

 ...and Dirtman served (Dirtman served us, which disappointed Hokie no end).

And I was still off my feet by 8:30 p.m. Some of you know the importance I place in being off my feet*.

And here's Zsa Zsa's nose because it's just the cutest ever.

*I know. Enough about my feet, right? But...you just don't know...