a ramble of . . . I don’t even know what.

I am sipping a glass of ice wine, (I say that like I always have a bottle of ice wine on hand, but really, the last time I had it was around the Christmas holidays.)  I’ve finished the dinner clean up, but still the house smells of salt and the sea and freshly shucked oysters.  It’s a nice smell, as long I don’t have to eat them. 

Everyone is on their computers right now.  Molly is licking her paw under the table.  Will is upstairs playing a video game of some sort or another.  And I sit here, typing to you. 

There, I reached over and took another small sip.  It’s a little sweet.  Not quite as wonderful as I remember ice wine being.  Like, I like the idea of ice wine better than the actual drinking of it.

Rog and Jim came over last week with Keith and his girlfriend, and they brought me, (along with two nice bottles of wine and some fancy kind of beer) a magazine that the government liquor store puts out, that has beautiful Martha Stewart magazine quality photos of delicious looking food and recipes.  Ones I even imagine trying out some day, which never happens.  And the other cool thing about this magazine is it has wine pairings for the food, and that’s kind of fun to contemplate.

Sort of how B____ likes to coordinate her undergarments to what she is wearing on the outside.  Socks, bra, undies, all of it matches the color scheme of her outfit. 

Now me?  I admire that kind of attention to detail.  Sort of like wine pairing.  But is it ever going to happen in my house?  Probably not.  But that doesn’t stop me from daydreaming that I’ll get around to buying matching outfits, inside and out, and learning about wine and tipping my nose in the air and saying, “Ah…yes!  Crisp, with a hint of honey, and a splash of rose essence, delightful.“  I can say it, but seriously, it would be 100% bulls__t.  I don’t know a thing about wine.  I know if I like it or if I don’t.  I know that I can drink it and enjoy it, and then all of a sudden, my tongue doesn’t like the taste anymore.  Which is quite handy, because I rarely have more than a glass, and even then it is an infrequent event.

Anyway, I am getting bored with this.  Who cares?  Not me!  I was just typing because everyone else was, but is that any reason to bore you senseless? 

Bye everybody.

Sweet dreams! xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, September 07, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

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