Drink Your Booze Under the Moose

Spending time at The Prescott last night got me all sentimental and warm inside as it brought back nice memories of my grandfather's bar (or the hotel as we called it). When he passed away 5 years ago, it was amazing how many people went up to my mother with condolences and to let her know how much they enjoyed the bar and that it was my grandfather who got them drunk for the first time. I know, that might sound like a bizarre thing to get all sentimental over, but that kind of a thing doesn't exist too much anymore. My grandfather took good care of his customers and knew them all very well. If you were going to be spending your evening at his bar, you were going to be polite and respect the people around you. There was to be no fighting and if his kids, and later on his grandkids, were going to be around - no swearing!

When my grandparents retired almost 20 years ago, a non-local family bought the place and tried to make a go of it as a restaurant. It didn't go over very well..and then the only other place to drink in the town burned down 10 years later and now there's no place to relax and have a drink. I always thought it would be really cool to open the place up again; it is currently sitting empty as yet another owner failed to make the business a success. I'm sure it would make my grandfather smile.

This may be my last post for a while as Tink and I are flying home to Grandma and Opa Bear for the holidays. I do believe that I will be all packed and organized by the time we leave for the airport. I better start compiling my list though so that nothing's forgotten. Air travel changes dramatically every time I travel - can I bring my nail clippers or not?

Have a great weekend everybody!