Wine Country… in Denver?

I miss going to Napa…I miss going to Calistoga soaking in the hot springs after a long hard day of wine tasting. But today we kinda made it happen right here in ol’ Denver. 

We started off the day with a plan to show the Red Rasta(he’s a blonde now but whatever, I like the nickname)a cow because… it’s the only animal he knows. ​​

I thought we could go to the Urban Farm. We drove over there, but no dice because it’s not open on Sundays. 

When you have a young child you have a finite amount of time to do shit before they lose their shit. I tried to think of where I had seen animals and I remembered seeing a horse last summer when we went to a fundraiser for KUVO at The Vineyards

We drove over there only 10 minutes from Stapleton. We thought the winery wasn’t open but ¡sorpresa! It was. 

We showed the Red Rasta the “cow”
All was well, until the “cow” got closer. 

Husband informed me that he has a fear of “cows” a.k.a.  horses. Then the horse climbed over the fence and we ran away from it only to be barked at ferociously by some country dog living in the city. 

We fled for our very lives. Husband had the irrational thought that the “cow” and the Red Rasta were bonding somehow because our son was breathing heavily as he and the horse locked eyes. Husband informed the Red Rasta that the “cow” was a prey animal because of where his eyes were located. Not sure our baby knew what was going on but knowledge is power! Husband was very concerned that the “cow” was in danger of leaping the fence and doing something, I’m not totally sure what, but he did appear to get stuck. Poor baby. 

At which point we fled to the winery for a complimentary tasting. 

This is when the mamabear got a wee but tipsy. 

Then the Red Rasta went nuts. 

And informed us that the party was over, in a very rude manner I might add. I quickly ordered all the wines we liked. Which was a lot. Because I like wine. Obviously. 

We bolted.  We don’t know what happened to the “cow” but we do know I dressed up like a farmer, and that babies don’t belong at wine tastings unless you’re in Denver, bitch. 

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