There is nothing quite like a good glass of merlot. I didn’t used to drink wine. It made me very sick. Really, incredibly sick. Puking immediately sick. Funny though. My mom drank wine when I was growing up, and by extension, of course, I started drinking wine when I was young. Very young. Ten or so I believe. I didn’t turn into an alcoholic either. I wonder why? But Mom always drank white wine. I don’t particularly like white wine. Some are okay. A good dry chardonnay is nice on a hot summer’s afternoon, about 3ish, just after the sun has hit its zenith and you think you cannot possibly get any hotter. A nice glass of chilled chardonnay will put you right in the mind for a quick (or slow) nap under the air conditioning!

After a good bit, I started drinking scotch. For the life of me, I can’t remember what it was I liked about scotch at age 18, but I must have liked it a good bit, I certainly drank enough of it. And if I drank alot of it without liking it at all, I was an ass, (which, now that I think of it, is probably true, both the lack of taste and lack of brains).

I didn’t try red wine until about 13 years ago, funnily enough when my husband and I were visiting a lesbian couple who were friends of ours, some eight hours or so drive from home. We had wine with dinner that night, and I spent hours in their wonderfully decorated bathroom, puking my guts out. The bathroom was all done up in neutrals, lots of minimalism, textures and rough sort of brownish/grayish tile all through. I remember the shower, it took me a while to actually figure out WHICH object WAS in fact, the shower. There was no curtain or other hints as to the function thereof so to speak. I figured out the bidet, having been raised SOMEWHAT civilly, the lavatory had a wonderful sort of waterfall and some rocks in it, I didn’t see any soap there though, which I found quite strange. I finally located the shower by finding the drain in the floor and looking up after that, following the clues. There was overhead, a sort of stainless steel plate, which the water cascaded over. There were two buttons, stainless of course, recessed into the rough cut tile wall, which controlled the water flow and temperature. It was all quite impressive, but not very pleasant to bathe with.

I stayed QUITE away from red wine until about a year or so ago. One day, having a good craving for a fine cabernet, (which incidentally one of my friends drinks, and so, was quite handy, since my place of employment just HAPPENS to be a full service restaurant which my best friend owns, and so it is not entirely unusual to find either or both of us downstairs quite OUT of the office, as it were, on a stressful day, well, having a drink), so anyway, I DID in fact, have a glass of a good respectable Australian cabernet.

And remembered JUST how heavenly it could be. AHHH, the oakeyness. The slightly tangy, nose wrinkling bouquet, barely reminiscent of the vines upon which the lovely grape once hung, ripening in the sun, full and ready to burst.

And I drank quite a lot of it that night, and many subsequent nights as well. Got rather pissy a few times too. Ran on and on at the mouth at length to all my friends and became very obnoxious on occasion. You don’t really think that little 4% alcohol content difference between white and red is a big deal until you over imbibe on red. Whoo boy.

The next day, your friends will remind you of many many things you didn’t know you could possibly do, but in fact, did.

However, being fifty, you kind of take it all in stride. You don’t really embarrass easily at fifty, well, at least you shouldn’t. At least I don’t. My basic feeling is that well, piss off if you don’t like it anyway.

And then, I tried Merlot. A wonderful little mix of cabernet and something else, quite probably merlot? Who cares? Not me. But I do like the taste of it. A bit smoother than cab, not as tanninny (I am not sure if tanninny is a word, the spell checker doesn’t seem to think so, but I think it fits, so piss off to the spell checker). Easier on the tummy than cabernet, which can be a bit, well, acidy and keep you awake at 2 a.m. ish. Not something you need at fifty when you stayed up till midnight watching television and having a glass, and have to get up at six.

No, Merlot is quite nice. The perfect cap to a crappy day. Truth, I am sitting here watching myself blog, drinking some now !! There is a dead baby fish about 3 feet away in the tank. He was alive this morning. I didn’t know for a long time that I had a baby fish until I saw him lurking in the tank. One of the guppies I suppose. I eventually fished (how funny is that) him out and put him in a baby fish sort of thingy that hangs on the side of the inside of the fish tank. To keep him from being eaten by the other fish I think. It worked for that. But tonight, alas! His little 1/16 inch body is floating on the bottom of the net. I suppose fish sort of people could tell me what I did wrong. But I shall probably just stop at Wal Mart tomorrow and buy another little fish. We still have big fish, well big comparatively speaking. They are in fact, quite small, but they were bigger than he.

And so, me and my merlot, a dead fish and the rest of the evening.

Good night.

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