We love a good happy hour

Bob and I are huge fans of happy hours, and weather permitting, we sit on our front-porch rocking chairs and enjoy one.

We sometimes remark on passersby, and sometimes the remarks are a little snarky. Or, they’re about who doesn’t appear to see the fire hydrant that they’re illegally parked in front of or the “No parking this side” sign that’s literally beside their parked car. It’s no wonder we drink.

In addition to snark, our happy hours always involve what we refer to as “nibblies,” and truth be told, nibblies often turn into dinner. They usually comprise some variety of crackers with some variety of cheese, some veggies to assuage the calorie-count guilt, and something salty, which is a hard requirement for me with a highball.

We usually drink the same highball —a “bourbon and soda”—mine with ginger-flavored seltzer water and Bob’s with unflavored seltzer water, and both with Canadian Club, which is technically a blended whisky and not a bourbon. So sue us.

Some not atypical nibblies
Ritz crackers; carrots, cucumbers, and ranch dip; sweet gherkins and black, green, and Kalamta olives; ham salad and Swiss cheese; and some peanut-butter-stuffed pretzels

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