My sister and I went to the POUR Craft Coffee Festival yesterday. Our aunt was there because her son, our baby cousin, was one of the planners. He is in hot water. The business. These roasters used Marco equipment in brewing.
I was thrilled to get to go to a craft coffee event and visit with family at the same time.
It was held inside The Unknown Brewery in Charlotte, North Carolina.
It was a great event for anyone who likes to drink or even smell coffee.
There were some bakeries there also, but since it is Lent, I only ate the samples.
I did not want be rude to the lovely young lady.
Each Coffee Roaster was sharing samples of their different blends of coffee. The coffees had different types of beans from different sources around the globe.
We spent hours sampling sips of coffee from tiny mugs given out at the entrance. We learned about roasting beans.
I took photos of each vendor’s sign. I blinded the nice young man at the Nightflyer booth. (Sorry dude. My bad.)
Jokes were made about sipping and chugging, caffeine highs balanced with beer mellows.
My sister and I decided our palates were not sophisticated enough to taste the tones and hints of the beans and skins/cherry/cascara. A helpful gentleman suggested this was because we were “older.” (Just because something is true, doesn’t mean that it needs to be said.)
My sister’s one purchase of the day was some Arabica Soda from Charleston, South Carolina. It was a refreshing blend of beans and skins and sugar and carbonation. We predict a hit here.
It was a great chance to taste many brands of craft coffee.
I must make one suggestion to our cousin from Marco. Next year please add a craft cocoa vendor for your old-lady cousins with our unsophisticated palates.
After hours of “Operation Caddy Shack”(another ridiculous movie), we can say with great confidence that there are no more rats in the bunny yard.
I guess our bad neighbor was a lone wolf, so to speak. I did not check the cadaver’s gender before the burial.
I would have posted sooner, but I felt faint toward the end of the events and had to come inside to hydrate, shower and lie down. I am not sure what caused the spell. It could have been due to excitement, exhaustion(from digging and laughing) or smoke inhalation.
We found many tunnels along the base of the basement.
Tunnel opening with smoke coming out.
Mr. Flower started the mission with fire, followed by smoke and last, but certainly not least, water.
Billows of smoke from another tunnel.
I must say the most disconcerting part (other than flames shooting up the side of my dwelling, fanned by my husband with a shop-vacuum) was the amount of water used.
Mr. Flower playing with fire and power tools at the same time.
After the use of flames and smoke, we placed hoses in the holes to fill the tunnels with water. The hose ran and ran and ran, but we never saw any water coming out from any other holes or drain pipes.
Water disappearing down one of the holes.
Where did it all go? I do not know.
After my much needed rest, I had to go down and remove the mess from the bunny yard. They knew something big had happened.
I might add that one of my children’s favorite books was Mrs Frisby and the Rats of NIMH.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that we had been outsmarted. Perhaps somewhere up the hill, in the woods, was a group of rats watching us, and laughing.
LESSONS:
Never underestimate the enemy.
Know your neighbors.
Know your enemies.
Put out the flames before blowing smoke
I will be glad to get back to gardening. This has been way too much action for the Flower.
The digger has been relocated to a different hole. One that was dug by Mr. Flower.
We never did get a picture of the culprit. If you can’t get a photo, a little poo will do.
I must say that I suspected its identity all along.
My head knew all the signs pointed to rat, but my heart wished for weasel.
You will not be seeing any photos of dead creatures on my blog. I made this rule years ago when a dead raccoon was found in the fairy garden.
My children insisted that I include a blog post about the “Fairy Fatale”, but I refused.
I knew that the poor little thing had fallen from the tree the previous night during our bonfire gathering. He had climbed up into the tree above to spy on us. The young raccoon was so scared by the ghost stories, that he lost his grip and fell to the rocks below.
The fairies just finished him off.
Thus ends the mystery. I hope my readers are not as disappointed as I am.
“Why the Critter Cam then?” you ask.
Mr. Flower suspects that the culprit did not act alone. He has been studying up and making plans. He seems rather excited. He has been referring to this Friday as ‘Ground Hog’s Day.’ For you readers who may not know this, it is the title of a movie starring Bill Murray. I hated to remind Mr. Flower that the aforementioned film involved a rodent out-smarting a human.
If you’re local, you may want to drop by tomorrow. (Bring a lawn chair.)
floweralley 