Good Golly, Miss Molly

 This weekend, Hugh had a meeting in Denver, so I decided to tag along. While he was in the meeting, I met up with my sister, Barbie for a fun morning exploring downtown.

Our first stop was The Carriage House, for a cup of coffee and a pastry. I had a pistachio and cardamom latte that was truly the best latte I have ever tasted; it was flavorful without being overly sweet, and the spice of the cardamom was perfectly balanced. I also had an orange poppy seed scone, but it was nothing to write home about, too dense and dry. The orange glaze was the best part, but you can't live on glaze alone. Barbie had an almond croissant, which she really enjoyed, so I just picked the wrong pastry that day. No harm, no foul, and The Carriage House's ambiance more than made up for it. I am a nerd for historic homes, and the Tears-McFarlane House, where the coffee shop is located, is absolutely stunning. Barbie and I took our coffee on the front portico, and it was like stepping back in time. So much fun.

After coffee, we had tickets to the 10:00 tour of the Molly Brown House. Barbie had been there years earlier for a tea party, but it was my first time visiting the museum, and it didn't disappoint.

The house itself is impressive, but learning the true life story of "the Unsinkable Molly Brown" was the best part. The story of Margaret Tobin Brown was so distorted over time; it's crazy. For one thing: she never went by Molly. Not ever. Movie producers and media people made that up; if she had a nickname at all, it would have been Maggie, given her Irish roots.

People also wrongly believed she was uneducated and not very bright, and that she was somehow vulgar and lacked class because she and her husband, JJ Brown, came into their money rather than being born into it. None of these things were true in the slightest; the woman spoke four languages fluently, moved through Denver society with grace, navigated East Coast society without a second thought, and was the foremost fundraiser of her time. She was also instrumental in the suffragist movement and played a pivotal role in securing women's right to vote.

Nothing about the woman was crass or stupid.

From everything our tour guide told us, she also threw kickass parties, including seances, despite being a devout Catholic.

The house was decorated for Halloween during our tour, which, as we all know, I appreciated.

We loved the tour, but the best part was getting to spend some quality time with my sister; we don't get to do that very often and I am hoping that will change once my hardware store duties end, hopefully very, very soon.

After the tour, we hit a couple of thrift stores while Hugh finished his meeting, then we all had lunch at a nearby Mexican restaurant before Hugh and I got back on the road to Petticoat Junction.

It was a nice little break, but of course we were excited to get home, since Queen B is still with us and we are trying to squeeze in as much time with her as possible before she flies back to Texas.

The last two weeks, since the Goose was born, and I have been flexing time off from Not So New Job have been lovely. It gives me high hopes for retirement, not gonna lie.