[My nephew, Trent at The Black Sheep: I’ll take 4 Battleships, two Bloody Mary’s, and your best cut lemon.]
I breathe—I sleep—I exist—but most importantly, I wear lots of fringe. Reporting live from Richmond, VA, this is your very own Caftans correspondent, Carey! Experimenting with heat rash, the oversight to pack only fringed boots for footwear (x4 pairs), faulty navigation systems, and Southern-style mosquito ferocity. I’m home, kids!
This wouldn’t be C+C without a healthy does of illegality. Thus, here’s my brother’s way of hitching a ride with me to the drugstore to get an Rx for his sick baby. That’s my kind of Da-Da!
So I’m in RIC. As much as I’d like to keep my whereabouts hidden from my numerous stalkers, here I am. You’d think they didn’t know what the Internet was here, I’ve been absent for so long. Or maybe that was just the vacuum of time I spent staring at the Slurpee machine in my old favorite haunt, the 7-11 of Libbie and Grove.
My goods:
My carpool buddies and I used to spend copious amounts of time/money in this store acquiring tooth-rotting good fun in the form of Lik-M-Aids, Pop Rocks, Shock Tarts, and Marlboro Reds.
Kidding about the last one. Sort of. Can you get Benson & Hedges at the 7-11?
So, we went to brunch, and it kicked my fan in a great way. The Black Sheep; heard of it? My nephew left a lasting impression on the residents of the back patio:
I SAID, I DON’T LIKE LEMONS, SIR.
So this is my territory, but I have a lot to learn. Or it would seem. Have you been to The Black Sheep yet? Brunch central. Scratch that: Bloody Mary central. Sandwiches to die for:
[The sandwich portion of Black Sheep’s menu: they really are battleships. Unless you are of the equine species.]
Oh, God. I have to do this. Immense hometown pride; plus, Tigger, the nearly immortal feline ruled this roost! Meet my old digs:
A lot of really insignificant things happened here in this house I happen to find really significant.
During a stroll around The Fan:
Kind of can’t hate this neighborhood.
Or serendipitous dinners with old friends:
Listen. You’ve got better things to do than listen to me talk on about why I love being from Richmond, VA. I mean, they sell wine in grocery stores, people. It’s so together.
-Carey
I’m so glad you’re alive. Keep living–that nephew of yours is a gem and I see many a “fancy lemonade” in his future. xoxo-C
Wish I was up in RVA with you! Have a fantastic time and check out Anthill Antiques while you’re in Carytown.. obsessed with the jewelry!
girrrlllllllllllll let’s make this happen!
Your old digs looks like my parents neighborhood in the West End. Did you, perchance, live in Hampton Gardens (Oak Lane/Roslyn Road area)? Heading down to the capital of the confederacy from Saratoga in Aug for a family visit. I always patronize my old haunt, 7-11, and get the mandatory cola Slurpee. Then, I drive by our old alma matter, St. Catherine’s, and do a primal scream.