Smokey and I visited the tribe for dinner this week. St. Croix Casino has a seafood buffet on Thursday nights. Since our anniversary was Friday (33 years! yikes!) we declared this to be our celebratory outing. Cameras are forbidden in the casino and I didn't want to risk getting yelled at, so I didn't try to photograph our dinner. Picture my plate with salmon, peel-and-eat shrimp, deep-fried shrimp, homemade scalloped potatoes, and prime rib. Picture Smokey's plate piled high with crab legs.
We had a 45-minute wait to get into the buffet. I hate to gamble. Smokey likes to play the slots but had decided not to do so this time. After sitting around for a few minutes, though, he was bored. Not me, I had brought my knitting. Of course. And then he realized we were sitting in front of a row of nickel slots. I gave him a dollar, which he had turned into five by the time our number was called for dinner (he's lucky that way). Took care of the waiter's tip :)
I did manage to capture a couple highlights in the parking lot.
We stole the land from them, they can certainly park anywhere they want. I just like the reminder that I don't live in a city anymore.
This was rather... unsettling:
That is a row of eight handicapped spaces. There were at least four rows like this. That is a lot of handicapped parking, people! Gambling is apparently popular among the elder set. Not that we are members of that set, Smokey's handicapped parking pass notwithstanding.
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Last night my friend Colleen and I went to a fund raiser dinner and auction for the new library and museum in Luck, the next little town north. Here is what they are planning to build:
It will be by far the most attractive building in the village.
The festivities were held in the fire hall.
The local ladies served up roast pork sandwiches, cole slaw, hamburger/rice hot dish (Midwestern for casserole), squash, and a multitude of homemade desserts.
The serving ladies were friendly and generous and photogenic, but what I really should have gotten a photo of was the array of desserts. I hadn't seen that many home baked cakes and cookies and bars (correct pronunciation: barss) since I don't know when. Maybe when we used to go to the monthly fish fry at the VFW down the road from our house.
In addition to the usual donated kinds of stuff -- gift certificates, home decor items, sporting equipment -- there were some actual antiques that had been donated. A treadle Singer, complete with tattered pages from the original manual:
and a wooden trunk in very good condition. (You can see more of the Singer in the background):
An oak rocker in excellent condition that was very comfortable. Colleen pronounced it Just Right for petite people like herself.
Anyone ever have one of these?
Not everything was an antique, however. What's that?
This is Packer Country. Vicki, this shot is for you. You may have gotten to go to Rhinebeck, but we have a signed jersey here.
