It’s the real thing. My Table 44 friend Kerry bought a place in Denver and it’s gorgeous… and she graciously is letting me stay for the Colfax Marathon on Sunday.
The charming welcome started from the code keypad…
… and carried on thereafter, non-stop.
It’s been great catching up with her. She even indulged my “Kate Middleton is a terrible, terrible person” rants. Ugh, the Royals! All of ‘em. I’m an American; we fought a revolution to get rid of such things. And then fought another one in 1812!
But even as I screamed, she screamed, and we all screamed for ice cream. Holy cow, they make some good flavors here in Denver. I promised the next time Kerry’s in California I’ll take her to Diddy Riese. Meantime, I may have to ask for a repeat trip to this place:
Kerry’s great and I appreciate her taking time out of her schedule to tour guide. Especially given that my AirBNB next week just cancelled on me… but not before trying to jack up my rate.
I have always relied on the kindness of great people… and it breaks my heart that I also seem to expect the inherent disingenuity of strangers.
Still, I’m trying to drift off to sleep with visions of ice cream dancing in my head, instead of curses for a Michigander. Listala, just know that Kerry is a friend of mine and you, ma’am, are no Kerry!