Fiddle While Rome Burns

As part of our on-going Fiddle While Rome Burns divertimentos, Scarlet and I abandoned the Devil Queen to its fate (which is saying something since most of the state has been experiencing 100 year floods with six months of rain in six weeks) and took a decadent three day excursion which included a seven course tasting menu with wine pairings at Ashley's at the Capitol Hotel, horse races, a spa, ducks, raw oysters, Guinness, scotch, a college reunion, shopping, and more.

And, if that weren't enough, we sandwiched all of this in between plant hauling, ditch digging, landscaping, gravel hauling, and house cleaning.

Work hard and play hard because life is short.

The Room of Unspeakable Pleasures

This looks innocuous enough, no? A fully functional toilet (the third and final one for the Devil Queen) and sink in our laundry room/third bathroom.


And here is the tub, our wicked, sinful tub.

Kristin, I blame you. Ever since I read this post of yours, I can never look at this plumbing fixture the same again.

You've shattered my innocence. I feel like the guy who walks in on the long-haired hippie licking the LSD off Hunter S. Thompson's red flannel shirt in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

"With a bit of luck, his life was ruined forever. Always thinking that just behind some narrow door in all of his favorite bars, men in red woolen shirts are getting incredible kicks from things he'll never know."

Thanks to you, my slide into utter depravity has begun already. Before too long, all that will be left for me will be rum, sodomy, and the lash.