Anniversary Weekend Chronicles

Sweet tradition! Whenever we go to Prescott, I accompany Bobby to one of the bars along Whiskey Row and sit while he enjoys a beer. Until David's accident, I had a beer, too, but since then I'm no longer drinking. It's becoming more challenging to find a bar, come to think of it, because Whiskey Row is being overrun by touristy shops and galleries. What happened to WHISKEY ROW!! Bikers and cowboys and honky tonk or rock band music floating across the avenues? Instead it's 2 bars and then rows of junk-selling stores! Too bad. A real alteration to the mood of Whiskey Row. We had started to drive to Jerome, but missed the 89A turn-off and instead found ourselves headed for Ash Fork. Now, we've done this before and turned around fairly quickly to correct our route -- but Saturday was SO BEAUTIFUL, rain cloud-filled skies, blustery, a beautiful scenic ride, so instead we rode all the way to Ash Fork. By then the rain had cut loose in almost hail-sized drops ... outside the little market in Ash Fork, a group of local women huddled in sweatshirts around a table loaded with baked goods. As for moi, I was too cold to venture over for a peek and a sniff! We turned around and moseyed on back to Prescott, deciding to save Jerome for Sunday in hopes the rain would clear out. Prescott, when we arrived, was overcast but not wet ... so silly us, we decided to leave the umbrellas in the truck and do our Whiskey Row walk, then find a place for lunch. As soon as we were a few blocks from the truck, the skies opened, babee!!! And then the sewers of Prescott couldn't handle the intake, and there began the sea of puddles up to mid-shin all over the downtown shopping blocks! We enjoyed our beer, then lunch at a cute new restaurant called Pearl's Place Cafe
with a waitress named Jessica who looked exactly like Jennifer Tilly. Chef salad for the Master, patty melt special for me, who was feeling especially carnivorous! I ordered carrot cake for dessert, something Mr. Brown usually disdains, but when he sampled mine, we ended up ordering one to go for him! Both of us were in a t-shirt/hat store (Bobby's bald head was cold) when we realized the streets were overflowing. A little lad, maybe 4 years old, stood in the doorway holding his Mom's hand and shouting, "Puddle time! Puddle time!" What a chuckle that gave me, and since I had no mommy holding me back, I went out and splashed in the puddles across two main intersections toward the truck in the only pair of shoes I'd brought with me. Got my jeans soaked up to about an inch above my knees, leather shoes soaked through, hair soaked, sweatshirt dripping!! Eesh. Bobby, who had gone around a different way, hoping to avoid the puddles I navigated, met me at the truck in pretty much the same shape! We laughed and drove straight to Walmart for slippers and sweats, then went to the hotel to check in and warm up in the shower!