Oh for the flowers of the South in the spring! Whiskey country comes alive in lush, velvety hills of green grass, in everything flowering. The land is gorgeous. I can't overstate how beautiful it is come to life in cherry blossoms and tulips. Louisville is all brick and old town and plantation land. Industrial revolution is still happening here.


Louisville is beautiful in the spring.

I woke up late in the afternoon, without a wine headache and with a powerful yearning for food. DanseMacabre came back over to the hotel, and we went in search of a coffeeshop. Yelp, that den of hipsters, guided us to a small, dimly-lit shop set back from the street that served flavored whipped creams. One latte with toasted marshmallow cream later, and some breakfast on the side, we were back out the door and strolling down the sidewalk.

Bardstown Road reminds me of Hennepin Avenue back in Minneapolis in many ways. There's a mix of small business, artist's galleries, dentist's offices, bakeries, and many, many cafes and restaurants. Art installations spring up hither and yon: bikers ply strange, expensive models alongside the automobiles. As the answer to the painted Peanuts cast members of my hometown, there are horses decorated in bizarre, varying patterns.

I spent the day doing nothing in particular. While DanseMacabre was in class, I hung out at the Highland Coffee Company, enjoying some tea and time with my laptop while people flowed in and out and around me. The sky outside was a perfect blue without clouds; the flowers were blooming brilliantly in pots out on the patio.

In the late afternoon, we took in an oversized game of chess and some delightful Greek food before it was back to the hotel for the rest of the wine and scripting.


I don't remember the Greek food. DanseMacabre and I ate our fill, though, with plenty of saffron rice and wine and jokes over the dinner table. I think of that night and I remember powdered sugar, laughter, molten chocolate, dimly lit fancy restaurants, maybe a cocktail or two.

We scripted so much, though. One of my volunteer gigs is a MUD full of a notoriously specific script (OLC). It is a massive pain in the ass to master and use effectively. Talk about gimpy data structures.


It was a quiet day, a peaceful day, with nowhere in particular to go or do. It was the kind of day I haven't had too often lately, an unburdening of the soul and a pause between motions.

Around seven in the evening, as the sun sunk in the sky and painted everything with soft golden edges, I felt as light as a feather, as unburdened and as happy as a child.


Louisville was a welcome break from the rain. It was spring in all of its glory, a warmth that echoed the glory of the sunlit days in my last week in Virginia. It was spent with a friend, a wonderful one, in a gorgeous city. In many ways, it was the best, and most beautiful of beginnings.

Things got distinctly weird the next day.