Growling with delight

Okay, am I going to have to be the one to say it? You want to hear what's it's really all about? It's about the presents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KIDDING!

I kid. I do. It's NOT about the presents.

But, ever since I can remember, and even before then, I have received gifts on Christmas day. You know, frankincense and myrrh and the like.

Well this year was no exception. This year I received some really amazing gifts actually. All three of my girls made something for me -- swoon, as did my sister-in-law. Really, what can be better than that?! Homemade gifts just for me?

Nothing, that's what.

However, my very favorite of the purchased gifts that I received was this bad boy:

My very own growler from the Fargo?! Really? I didn't even know they had growlers.

The Fargo, as Marty can attest to, is the quintessential small-town bar. Cheers-like in many ways. If you live in Aurora, you go to the Fargo. If you go to the Fargo, you're gonna know someone there. The first telephone number I ever committed to memory as a young girl was the Fargo's. (Sorry to out you, mom.) The place we went to drink away our sorrows after both my dad's and my uncle's deaths was the Fargo. And of course, Eddie, the bartender, knew that I wasn't quite 21 when my dad passed. I thought I'd pulled one over on him, that he thought I was of legal drinking age. But no. Of course he didn't. He's known me since I was born. It's the FARGO.

So, when I opened up this gift, I was smitten.

All the more so because I live within walking distance of Stone Brewery's new location. I see the people walking in and out of there with their empty-then-filled growlers. I see the happy anticipation as they enter, the careful selection process, and the satisfied looks as they exit.

I have envied these people.

But no more. I have my own growler now. And not just any growler. My own Fargo growler. Now, that is also what's it's all about, people.