Falling in Love with Kentucky

shortly before he was fed 2 hamburgers, with cheese

It's officially autumn. Slept with the windows open by my bed last night and woke today congested. Hooray. Bailey slept in a small nugget shape between my feet and is still there kinda mooing. It's 8am on a Sunday and I'm awake and writing. What makes me grateful for fall? The summer was unusually hot, my work load unusually heavy, and my social life unusually congested. These are good things for the most part, but the slow pace, the college football the pending fires I'll light in my little cozy apartment make me happy. Last night at a tailgate I was leaving just before UK fed itself into an odd, but ultimately predictable end against Spurrier's Cocks(*I'll let you go where you want with that); a guy saw Bailey, (FYI my dog gets more come-ons than a sorority girl in cowboy boots and a tube top) and said "I have a lab too, he changed my life." It's actually true. Younger versions of me were known for partying, for being very mercurial and wild, it's funny how 69.7 lbs of soft good smelling fur and flawless good looks can make you settle in and want to spend time at home, or on a walk. It's fall, my dog can finally run comfortably without looking at me like I'm torturing him, and for the first time in my adult life, I have no desire to move away from one of the prettiest cities I've lived in. (You can keep your winter, Madison, we've got horses).
So if you're free and have the inclination, my door is always open- we can go caving, hike some local fall color, go apple picking and eat kettle corn until our lips crack, and drink a dark beer on a chilly day, or you can lose your shirt at horse racing while sipping bourbon made 15 miles from where you sit. Yeah, it's ok here.  


(I feel like this post is kinda over sentimental but should say something like "this post brought to you by the Kentucky Tourism Bureau: Kentucky, we've got more teeth than you'd expect").