Last weekend, the gang got together in Nashville to celebrate our girl Molly’s thirtieth birthday. And it was one of those weekends that simply reaffirmed how wonderfully great it is to have wonderfully great friends.
It was a full one and a fun one. There was dinner in a warehouse, drinks in a greenhouse, mimosas with breakfast, mixed drinks before hiking, boxed wine in a mud lounge, hot chicken before cupcakes, upside down tequila shots, house party dance games, karaoke in a double wide followed by Wilson Phillips on a stage. I knew we’d be in for a good time, but the best part was the point we all made to be there. These dear friends of mine are so important, but not a single one of us lives in the same city. We span from Cincinnati to Lousiville to Bardstown to Lexingon to Chicago to Nashville so it is a pretty big deal when we get together and we all end up riding high on the joy of it all. Molly turning thirty (at the end of birthday season (sup Sal! sup Brit!)) was the best and easiest reason to make a weekend of it because again, best friends are just the best.
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