Down to Dixie
You know my blood runs big orange, so it’s no surprise that I relish the little site visit/walkthrough we have this weekend at The Inn at Blackberry Farm in the great state of Tennessee, home to the very definition of refined rustic. We cannot wait to see one of our favorite families out of Atlanta. . . to reminisce about the first daughter’s wedding and make plans for the next.
It promises to be a little snowy, which may put a damper on the general frolicking, fly-fishing, and lamb-petting we had planned. Instead, we’ll have to tuck into the five star artisanal farm-to-fork experience and debate the finer points of the French oak aging process. (Sniffle)
No but for real: what a treasure to work with clients whose attitudes and outlooks on the world inspire us to greater heights, and to visit with them by a roaring fire during the winter doldrums. We promise a few “real” pics upon our return.
In the meantime, sigh over these with us:
The epitome of a picket fence, no?
Looks like my house. (Ahem).
The Barn, where the wedding dinner will be held . . .
Slow food = good food . . .
