I have returned home from Memphis. Actually, I returned three days ago, and have been spending the past 72 hours in an Elvis haze. I’ll just say this: If Elvis was still around and I wasn’t married with children, I would consider being his girlfriend if he would have me. Even with the 35 year age difference. As long as he stayed away from booze and junk. (I think we can all agree that a narcotized/sauced 75-year-old guy does not earn many kisses.)
Anyway. While in Memphis, we did that thing where you watch ducks walk from an elevator to a fountain.
We ate cupcakes.
We went to a bad yarn store and a good yarn store.
We ate at a restaurant where the employees throw rolls at the customers.
Best of all, I am now the proud owner of a Graceland spoon rest.