Mother's Day weekend 2009 started out with a walk with Stephanie, Frisco, and me. Frisco is not as tough on small dogs as he is on big dogs, and this little dog is one he had met before, Munchkin. They got along pretty well.
Friso was then off with me for a regular doctor's visit. I felt a little bit bad after Dr. Kaur (below) and her colleague poked and prodded him (two shots, one blood sample, a rectal thermometer reading, and two nose drops!).
The animal theme continued as we stopped - on our way out of town - at the local government animal shelter to renew Frisco's license (now armed with new shot records). The licensing part was easy. But Stephanie insisted on looking at the dogs at the shelter (we had left Frisco home). Sure enough she found some dogs - including a poor, sight-impaired Yorkie who will probally never get adopted. I steered clear of this, figuring emotional attachment and raising the hopes of dogs and shelter staff. We can't afford another dog, and Frisco wouldn't tolerate it.
A couple of weeks later investigators were there too, checking out allegations of fraud and mismanagement against the shelter.
The shelter is south of town and stopped there not just because Frisco was due for annual license renewal (made necessary partly because of a animal control issue we faced a couple of years ago) but also because we were headed south of town anyway. On the way to our destination we somewhat inadvertantly drove around the first of the small towns we checked out on Saturday: Shepherdsville, KY - an almost incongruous combination of a giant flea market, an old-timey Main Street downtown, and a slew of fast food joints and big box retailers just a block away, next to the interstate. Once we crossed to the correct side of the highway, we were soon at our destination. Stephanie has long been a shoe afficianado, and about 10 years ago Stephanie began to discover that one of the reasons why her feet hurt so bad was that she wore lots of bad shoes(not enough arch support). So she began experimenting with more expensive shoes - finding stores in Tallahassee, St. Paul, Sarasota, and now Louisville that carry shoes by Dansko, Birkenstock, and the like. A major on-line shoe retailer - from whom she bought me also not cheap shoes a couple of years ago for my birthday - it turns out - although it's officially headquartered in Nevada - has their warehouse south of Louisville - near Shepherdsvile - and also near the United Parcel Service hub at the airport, south of town. Zappos.com, Stephanie learned earlier this spring, has an outlet store in that warehouse. The warehouse - pictured below from the road - is, as you can see, very big.
Below is Stephanie standing outside the outlet store door.
Once we got into the store, given the size of the warehouse, it was small and a tad disappointing.
Once Michael (below) helped us, we found some Dansko shoes, and we picked up that you really have to go there pretty regularly to find stuff if you're looking for something in particular. Stephanie was (looking for something in particular), which she didn't find. She did get a good-price pair of shoes (Vincent and I usually object is she doesn't spend at least $90), but we could relax that here. She got a pair of Danskos for 1/3 the regular price.
I also looked a little, but may have to come back when my current Zappos shoes wear out even more. From Zappos we drove an exit south, instead of north (towards home), on Interstate 65, to the Bardstown exit Soni and I had missed in January. Bardstown is a town south of Louisville - the cradle of Catholicism in KY (even before Covington) - home of several nearby distilleries and Catholic institutions, including the monastery Penny, Mom, and I visited John at in summer 1987 - when he was staying there (where the Catholic theologian Thomas Merton once lived) - and a town I believe the FL summer Latin tour went through in 1979 - on the way to Lansing, Michigan. I've driven through here twice now in January on the way to and from our church officer retreat at a nunnery. On Mother's Day weekend Sunday, Stephanie and I drove through it - past the restaurant where Soni and I ate in January, past the state park where the "Stephen Foster" musical is performed (Stephen Foster apparently wrote "My Old KY Home" after a visit to Bardstown), past the Chinese buffet where I ate 1 1/2 years ago on the way to the retreat, past the old courthouse square, past the dinner train the runs out of Bardstown, and past several old distilleries (and some kind of exhibit area near one). Some of these distilleries feature huge warehouse-looking - probably vats where the whisky ages - including the last ones we visited (pictured below) - I think for the Heaven Hill liquor company - that are really kind of peculiar looking, almost prision-like.
So we'd already had our big meal for Mother's Day weekend. On Mother's Day Sunday after church Stephanie walked to a plant store in our neighborhood and then I drove to pick her up with a bunch of plants she'd bought. After this, she spent a couple of hours working with them, mainly in our front yard. Frisco helped a little. (Mostly) fun weekend!
I also looked a little, but may have to come back when my current Zappos shoes wear out even more. From Zappos we drove an exit south, instead of north (towards home), on Interstate 65, to the Bardstown exit Soni and I had missed in January. Bardstown is a town south of Louisville - the cradle of Catholicism in KY (even before Covington) - home of several nearby distilleries and Catholic institutions, including the monastery Penny, Mom, and I visited John at in summer 1987 - when he was staying there (where the Catholic theologian Thomas Merton once lived) - and a town I believe the FL summer Latin tour went through in 1979 - on the way to Lansing, Michigan. I've driven through here twice now in January on the way to and from our church officer retreat at a nunnery. On Mother's Day weekend Sunday, Stephanie and I drove through it - past the restaurant where Soni and I ate in January, past the state park where the "Stephen Foster" musical is performed (Stephen Foster apparently wrote "My Old KY Home" after a visit to Bardstown), past the Chinese buffet where I ate 1 1/2 years ago on the way to the retreat, past the old courthouse square, past the dinner train the runs out of Bardstown, and past several old distilleries (and some kind of exhibit area near one). Some of these distilleries feature huge warehouse-looking - probably vats where the whisky ages - including the last ones we visited (pictured below) - I think for the Heaven Hill liquor company - that are really kind of peculiar looking, almost prision-like.
On the way home we also drove through Mt. Washington, in northern Bullitt County, and then in on Bardstown Road. We stopped at an Indian restaurant we had noticed months ago, that the proprietor of another favorite restaurant of ours had recommended, and spent a while there (it was good but service was slow). During our time there we got a fateful call from Vincent, who told us he had left the dog in the backyard (which he is not supposed to do - thanks to Frisco's separation anxiety, the dog wines which annoys the neighbors if any of them are home - all the more so because he didn't have any idea when we were coming home). As it is, he wanted us to pick him up at his girlfriend's - which we said we couldn't do, since we were still waiting for our food and - as soon as we were done eating - we'd need to rush home to rescue the dog - since it was almost dark and with a barking dog in the dark our neighbors might eventually call the dog shelter people we'd visited earlier in the day. (Vincent got mad and siad he'd stay at his girlfriend's. I eventually picked him up after church - on Mother's Day Sunday - and by then he had finally overstayed his welcome - and that helped produce a you can only see Vincent twice a week rule for Vincent's girlfriend - which is good as far as we're concerned - but marked a big change - since he used to go over there for hours EVERY DAY. A sign of a good "ethnic" restaurant - lots of the customers there were South Asian Indian Americans (but it's hard to pick out since it's in a rather run-down old shopping center).
So we'd already had our big meal for Mother's Day weekend. On Mother's Day Sunday after church Stephanie walked to a plant store in our neighborhood and then I drove to pick her up with a bunch of plants she'd bought. After this, she spent a couple of hours working with them, mainly in our front yard. Frisco helped a little. (Mostly) fun weekend!
-- Perry
