We're in Kentucky Now

There have been a few times this last month that Gary and I have looked at each other and said, "we're in Kentucky now."

My favorite one of these was a few weeks ago when we went looking for a little blink-and-you'll-miss-it, you-don't-get-there-unless-you-really-mean-to town called Rabbit Hash. Their mayor is a dog - no kidding; I mean talk about a place with some character. One of Gary's old buddies, Dan, was playing mandolin at a benefit festival with his great little bluegrassy old-timey band, The Downtown County Band. We got completely lost on the way, and by the time we got there on back roads full of limestone hill-cuts and amazing red, orange, and yellow-leaved trees, parked, and got a hayride into the festival, heard some GREAT bluegrass in a historic old general store next to a wood stove, we knew we were in Kentucky.
We were only there for a short while, but it felt good. Skye even got to kiss the mayor.

Last weekend, we went to the home of the Kentucky Derby, Churchill Downs, to see the horse races. You know you're in Kentucky when you see those twin steeples, beautiful thoroughbred horses racing around a track, and smell cigars. We took some popcorn and munched down as we sat in our chairs cheering on our imaginary picks. Mom and I even bet on a race, lost of course, but we had to bet a whopping $6 each. Next spring, we're excited to visit Keeneland, where Gary's brother, Geoff, works. Apparently, it's much more scenic and pastoral. Thanks for the tickets, Geoff!

Hiking in the woods has been the main time that has brought back those familiar, yet faint memories of the midwest. The smell of the mud, leaves, and trees is pulling out memories that I'd long forgotten. Welcome home Sheans!