Wine Weekend

O, Canada! Thank you for being there after all these months and months and months of separation! The Things About You We Love Best were all still there, almost exactly as we had left them. It felt so very good to be back.

The last time we were in Canada--in Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, specifically--was well before the pandemic. In the ensuing months/years, our wine cellar dwindled sadly, and we missed all of our friends. Each time we drank the last bottle of a particular wine from Canada, we sighed wistfully, wondering how long it would be until we would be able to go back.

An invitation to Big Head Wines' (our favourite winery) New Release party on 5 June showed up in my email late in May. Rick and I had been to their last big party back in 2018, before Covid made such things impossible. We researched travel requirements for driving to Canada, Rick got the time off approved for a quick jaunt north, and we RSVP'd happily that yes, we'd be there. They kindly booked a tasting for us the day before the party. 

They know us so well.

Our stay would be short--arriving Saturday and leaving Monday--with the party on Sunday afternoon. We decided that we wouldn't try to cram a lot of stuff into the abbreviated weekend, but instead focus on relaxing, reconnecting with friends, and good wine. So we did all of those things.

After some lunch and a nice walk on Saturday, we headed to the winery where we were enthusiastically greeted by all the Big Head family. We were led to our tasting bar, and although we were supposed to have tasted with another staff member since the family were all busy getting ready for the party, Andrzej (owner, winemaker, and my Canadian husband) insisted upon doing it himself. As he always does. 

This is always wonderful for Rick and me because we not only taste wines that are still in tanks and barrels, we also learn so much about how he makes wine. Even if you're not Wine Nerds like us, it's fascinating to hear about his decisions and methods (which include making wine in concrete, terra cotta, and Slovenian oak, among other vessels). We also got a sneak preview of wines that were being released at the party. 

Sunday was Party Day, but before that, we were able to reconnect with a friend of ours of many years. She dropped by our inn after breakfast for some catching up, and we had a nice chat on our private balcony. The weather was nothing short of perfect the entire weekend, and we spent a lot of time out there, sheltered by a redwood and bamboo, among other shade givers.

We made sure we were on time for the Release Party because we knew there would be a big turnout. Its guest list is usually about 500-700 people. The winery, already big and airy, had all its doors open and there were canopies set up outdoors. New wines were being poured in appropriately shaped glasses--not a fragment of plastic anywhere--and samples of all their offerings were also available at tasting bars strategically placed. 

And the food! It was catered by Treadwell's, a sustainable farm-to-table restaurant/caterer. It was delicious and smart:  mini porchetta on focaccia sandwiches, frites with garlic aioli, house made soppressata on focaccia, honey soy glazed pork belly, bbq beef cheek sliders, wild mushroom toasts, and probably more. But I could have eaten nothing but that pork belly all day. And every day. 

As it often happens, we met many truly nice people at the party and had some great conversations. Some were about wine, some were about Big Head and their new winery, and of course, some were about the state of the world. Many were about the state of America and its politics. As to the latter, they expressed support and pity, and they hoped that we'd get our collective shit together because it's concerning. I assured them that we are trying and that we more than share their concern.

Our one stop on the way home Monday was to pick up our...several cases of wine and say our last goodbyes to Andrzej and family. At the border we declared our haul and, after a bit of eye rolling and sighing, the agent justified our cargo by referring to our Pandemic Dry Spell and saying we were grandfathered in. Both traffic and our hearts were light on the way home.

Getting back to Canada and our friends was an Unexpected Joy. I am already looking forward to a return trip. If you click the link above for Big Head, you can meet my International Husband, his family/our friends, and read about some of the wines we experienced and bought there. I wish you could have come with us. 

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November Challenge Post #28: Places I've Travelled

Today's subject is one that I've written about before in a few different posts over the years. I come from a long line of Travelers (on my mother's side), people who are constantly picking up and moving all over the place for long trips and visits. My grandparents loved to take epic road trips, visiting Alaska before it was a state, camping all over the USA, and fishing in Canada.

All their children inherited the gene, and they all became intrepid tourists, often caravaning together in one big family parade, exploring whatever routes and states they mapped out carefully and deliberately well ahead of time. I vaguely remember one such trip only in flashes, chasing chipmunks among driftwood on the big dune beaches in Michigan, seeing a Paul Bunyan statue in...someplace. I think I was four.

I'm not as eager a traveller. When I was seventeen, my parents planned an enormous road trip for the month of August in 1976. We were to drive throughout the northwest states (12 in all) and a couple of provinces of Canada. That late spring and early summer, I had contracted several illnesses/infections, culminating in mononucleosis and a particularly bad case of strep. I was barely recovered, unable to swim or hike, but off we went. You can read about it here.

All of our road trips were pretty much geared toward my parents and had zero taken into consideration for the kids. Lots of scenic overlooks and nothing for children or teens to do. And after you've seen one mountain, you've pretty much seen them all, you know?

As an adult, I loved the cheap airfare during the 90s. I could fly out to see friends in Chicago, Maryland, Denver, and Florida. Those were the heady days before September 11; my family could still see me off at the gate! I could wear my shoes through to the plane!

For our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary in July 2006, Rick surprised me and booked a cruise for us to Alaska. It was a beautiful trip with nearly perfect weather. I wrote several posts about it and posted photos as well, if you want to check my archives (July/August 2006). I was awestruck by Alaska's beauty, and I liked the general convenience of being on a cruise.

My favourite trips are always to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, Canada. It's not a long trip, and we have made so many friends there. We have friendly and lovely accommodations, and we enjoy our wine tastings and stocking our cellar two or three times a year. We always learn something new from our wineries and winemakers. We walk by the lake and by the river, we eat at terrific restaurants, and we always relax and have fun. 

I've made many solo road trips as well, sometimes to visit friends in Maryland or Virginia, sometimes to go see things I'm interested in, like the Mary Todd Lincoln House in Lexington, Kentucky, or an art exhibit in Washington, DC. Sometimes I get Rick to take me to see something I'm interested in, like the Abraham Lincoln House and museum in Springfield, Illinois.

I've always wanted to take the time and go to England. And I thought maybe I'd like to go to Ireland, Scotland, France, and Croatia. But we took a chunk of money about six years back and bought our lakehouse instead, and I'm glad we did. It has given us so much pleasure and relaxation. It's like a getaway, a haven every time we pull into the drive.

So it's a tradeoff of sorts, as so many things are in life. I haven't been to Europe, but I've seen over half of this country and a few provinces of Canada. I'm not a world traveller, but I have a place to get away and enjoy a lovely view of a lake. It's all good.

So tell me, where have you been? Which place is your favourite?

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In Which I Worry That I'm A Deadhead--And Not The Fun Tie-Dye, Jerry Garcia Kind--But List Myself Out Of It (With A Bonus Amish Story Included!)

It's been so very long since I wrote anything that I'm just going to open up my head and see what falls out. I'm worried, actually, that there's Nothing In There, just my bleached skull and a powdery residue from what used to be my brain. Oh, October--you and I both have had a hard time Getting With It. We ran hot, then cold; we were sunny, then gloomy, and just when we thought we had it all together, everything would change again. Who said "The only constant is change"? Someone far wiser than I.

Let's see if we can't catch up a bit with some Lists.

Happy Stuff I Did

1. Went on a jaunt to Niagara-on-the-Lake
2. Got a really good haircut
3. Bought some new fall/winter clothes

Rick and I went back for our usual Fall getaway to NotL, restocked our wine cellar, and this time met up with friends from Detroit who we hadn't seen for a couple of years. We went to our favourite winery (where I always propose to the winemaker) and had an extensive tasting of wines not even on the list. The winemaker/owner's daughter pulled bottles out of the library cellar and we tasted those, and she was kind enough to send a couple home with us. Our weekend ended with us well supplied for the winter and, if necessary, spring.

Productive Stuff I Did

1. Finished the Endless Knitting Project
2. Made a final batch of pesto
3. Got my grandmother's cushion repaired

I had been working on a bigass shawl for months. It wasn't intricate or difficult, but I just wasn't feeling the Knitting Urge, and when I was, the muscle aches and bone aches made it difficult once my Vitamin D levels crashed again. Finally, I got so sick of looking at it--The Object Of My Ongoing Failure--that I swore I'd power through it if it killed me. I did and it didn't.

The repair of my grandmother's cushion is another Amish story, if you can handle yet another one. My grandmother was an accomplished seamstress and made coats, purses, all her clothes, my grandfather's ties; you name it, she made it. She also made leather patchwork cushions, and she made each of her eleventy thousand grand- and great-grandkids one. I got mine when I went away to college. At some point, a thread or two pulled loose, and it started to break apart at the seams a few years ago. Since it is a precious heirloom with significant sentimental value, I was at a loss as to what to do and how to get it fixed. And it is thick, onerous leather, making it a difficult repair for the casual seamstress. Luckily, a scion of the Amish family near the lakehouse recently opened up a canvas-making and upholstery shop. I took the cushion there to see if he could help. Rick and I walked in and a young, bearded man in the traditional blue shirt with no buttons came out to meet us. Nearby on a bench was his straw hat. I couldn't see a single machine in the shop, but it was a bit gloomy, and of course, there were no electric lights. I showed the cushion to him, explaining its story briefly as he turned it over carefully in his hands. "It's very old," I said. "I know it's worn in places, but it's only coming apart at the patchwork seams. It's special to me, so I hope you can fix it." He turned it over again, looked at it, squinted, smiled and said, "It's old-fashioned, that's for sure." And at that very moment, surrounded by huge neon lights, the word IRONY appeared on a gossamer banner held by the staff of The New Yorker magazine. 

Finally,

Stuff In General

1. I want to post more often; it's hard to get an idea I want to write about.
2. I am very active in The Resistance; I make phone calls and write emails to Congresspeople every single day. You can too!  Email me if you want any info.
3. I'm watching The Good Doctor on ABC and slowly loving it.
4. Hooray for boots and leggings weather.
5. The post header illustration is a sculpture by Taiji Taomote. Learn more about it and this talented artist here.

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I guess there was something in there after all among the bones and dust and detritus.  Like my grandmother's pillow, for much of October I felt old, worn, and like I was coming apart at the seams.  How has October been for you?  Any Stuff of your own to add?  And, as always, we can chat up my Stuff, too, in Comments.

In Which We Celebrate, For Things Do Get Better

Oh Frabjous Day! Callooh! Callay! Today NEO is basking in the sunshiny Upper Forties and the huge icicles have departed my gutters (or eavestroughs, as some locals here still insist upon calling them). I have seen wee margins of grass here and there as the monoliths of snow pull away from the sidewalks and driveways heated from the sun. And, quite importantly, today I wore only my lined raincoat to the grocery store.

So many lovely, lovely things are making me happy right now, and it seems like So Very Long since something has, so I would like to share.

My Latest Happies

1. My hair
2. Our Canada jaunt
3. The weather
4. President Obama's "Bloody Sunday" speech
5. A license plate I saw

Let me just tell you about those, and then you can chat about your Latest Happies in Comments.

1. My Hair is a constant barometer of my wellbeing. Last year, I decided to join the Pixie Movement (albeit late) and I was alternately pleased and horrified. Very sensibly, my friend Shirley over at gfeeasily said, "I think people are either Long Hair People or Short Hair People and just aren't happy being the other one." Well, my friends, I am a Long Hair Person. Period. My hair is finally grown out to a point where it is manageable and I no longer cry every other day because I Just Don't Know What To Do With It Anymore. The next time I say One Word about getting a haircut, I want every single person in the world to smack me hard. Thank you in advance.

2. Rick and I both knew we needed a change of scenery and that, despite the weather being identical to ours, the wine and comforts of Niagara-on-the-Lake would help us tremendously. So true. We had a lovely time this past weekend and brought home just under four cases, one being a gorgeous buttery Chardonnay. Our innkeepers took us as their guests to a winery party, and we had a very good time with tank tastings and nibblies. We even visited the newest winery, just opened, and because it is such a slow time, got a private tour. While in Canada, we politely asked that they keep their weather to themselves, and they said they would try.

3. What a lift to have temperatures higher than the single digits and teens! We are seeing the forties and maybe even a fifty or two in the next week or so. And sun...its effect on my mood and energy is incalculable. I know from living in NEO my whole life that this is merely a break in the action: our winter is far from over. But if we could get a full thaw and have all the snow gone, that would be terrific. I'm anxious to get back down to the lake and see how things are doing. It cannot be lake season soon enough for me.

4. I was in Canada for President Obama's delivery of his speech at the Edmund Pettus bridge in Selma. When I got home, I had the full text in my inbox, and I read it. I did not get far before my eyes were full of tears. I am always happy when words can move me, and I am always happy when our President makes reference to great writers and great women. I burst into tears especially when he called on the great Walt Whitman, the chronicler of the American Journey, and paraphrased a line that I so often spoke in awe in my own classroom. "I am large, I contain multitudes." Politics aside, it is a beautiful speech. Please click here and read it in full. (Note: Time magazine's transcript is NOT the full transcript, their claim to the contrary.)

5. On our way home yesterday we drove through Cleveland, and I caught a glimpse of a license plate framed by rainbow-coloured peace signs. It read GETZBTR. All I could see of its male driver was a pale hand and sunglasses as we raced past the frozen lake headed into downtown. I hope that the license plate meant GETS BETTER, and that it was part of the campaign IT GETS BETTER, which was started to give hope to LGBT youth. Vanity plates cost extra and have to be renewed every year, so it would be a personal expense if he were spreading that message. I choose to think that he was. Cleveland hosted the Gay Games last year, and they were a rousing success. Ohio is still a DOMA state, and the governor and legislature are republicans. One look at Ohio's district map shows you how horribly gerrymandered it is, but attitudes are changing. The DOMA was voted by the citizenry, true, but so much outside money influenced it that it was criminal. But that license plate...my heart lightened instantly.

What has lightened your heart lately? Tell us and make us all smile.

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In Which I Teach You Some Climatological Geography And Ask For Your Assistance

Welcome to February in NEO.  Watch your step!

What we've lost in degrees Fahrenheit, we've gained in inches of snow. Yesterday, we leveled off at 32 degrees and picked up over a foot of new snow. It just kept coming and there wasn't a single solitary thing I could do about it. Rick went out twice and threatened it mightily with the snowblower, but it continued on and on and on, well into the night and through the early morning when he left for work at 6:15, shovelling a path to his car. It finally stopped at about noon, but not until it had left us all in a snowy oblivion with temperatures of 17 degrees and winds blasting us from the north.

I wanted to tell you so that you knew there could be Winter Storms in places other than Boston, Chicago, New York, and Washington D.C. Certainly you would never learn it on The News. Actually, it's probably better that you don't hear too terribly much about NEO/Cleveland right now. You'll all be getting plenty tired of hearing about it come July of 2016 when it becomes the Home Of The You-Know-Whos since it will be hosting the republican National Convention.

All of that aside, even though there is a plethora of blog fodder in the present field of republican candidates that is just clamoring for space here at the Dept., I do want to do a bit of Brain-Picking for a moment with you as the...er, Pickees. February is a shorter month--even shorter now since I am making this appeal on its Second Day--and I would like to try to post every day or every other day for its duration. This would be infinitely easier were I to have a Theme. One of my readers with whom I correspond regularly suggested Love and Romance, in honor of Valentine's Day being in the month. We could all discuss things such as our first date, first kiss, wedding(s), wedding dress, honeymoon, things like that. And we could, but some of those topics necessarily exclude my readers who are unmarried, had/have unsatisfactory stories of any of those, or are simply Private about such things. I can understand that; I know that, personally, I may not want to discuss some of those things here, and that some of those things would not, in my case, make a good post to read.  Yet, some of the ideas will be a Basis for a post, but not in the Traditional Manner.

Lots of things can fall under the category of Love And Romance, and I know some of you might have some ideas for me. Still others of you may have some other ideas for topics to discuss or that you'd like me to write about or even revisit. I'd like to hear from you. My email link is still in my sidebar, or you can offer ideas in Comments.

For right now, I am not loving this weather. Or the fact that My Friends In Canada are sending us another Alberta Clipper on Wednesday. And Thursday. O, Canada! We stand on guard for thee.

The groundhogs of the world had better watch out. Not Feelin' The Love, as my students used to say. Right now, I'm going to put Rick's slippers on the furnace register to warm for him. He'll come home, fire up the snowblower, and have to find someplace to put all this snow. Again. But when he comes in, he'll Feel The Love from those toasty slippers.

I look forward to your ideas. Thanks for your help.  And I have to remember to tell Rick about this thing.

Those icicles have been known to kill people!"

“Long Is The Night To Him Who Is Awake; Long Is A Mile To Him Who Is Tired; Long Is Life To The Foolish..."--Gautama Buddha

I'm back from an Idyllic jaunt to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario, where perfect weather and lovely people and a Secret Winery all converged in a Holiday Vortex that left me repeating, "This is so wonderful" overmuch. Our Vacation Friends from New York were staying at the inn; we had a convivial evening in the garden house with the innkeepers and some very good organic wine; we splurged and sat down to a winery chef's dinner of five courses (with wine pairings) where, astonishingly, I enjoyed a raw oyster sprinkled with flying fish roe. Enjoyed! It was a revelation.

With no television in our balcony room, I was blissfully unaware of the World around me. Vacations there are also a vacation from The News and, especially, The Politics. Tim, our innkeeper, keeps a table of newspapers in the breakfast room, but I assiduously avoid them. And I'm not the only one. Most of the American guests do, I've noticed, and the few Canadian guests do a cursory skim of the front pages of each section, then turn their attentions to the excellent homemade bread, yoghurt, or daily sweet, especially if Sharon has made her tempting cranberry coffeecake or lemon poundcake.

(This changes markedly if a Presidential election is News in the United States. Everyone, no matter his or her passport, wants to talk about that at breakfast. We are spared, at least for a bit.)

Still enrobed in my Zen--somewhat--I caught up on The News a little, and I reviewed some of the articles I have been saving. Quite a bit of The News and The Politics is frosting my cupcakes lately. Perhaps, I thought, if I try to address all of it at once and all of it while I am still a bit Warm And Fuzzy, things won't Get Out Of Hand.

Oh, let's do try. Shall we? On, then.

1. Hillary and President Clinton and Who Is "Dead Broke". My admiration and deep love for President Clinton is a Given. My vote for Hillary Clinton in the 2008 Presidential Primaries was, too. But someone has to wrench these people and all politicians out of their extraterrestrial elitist circles and show them how the Real World lives. And, if necessary, show them Some Math. As in, a family has an income of $46K, and the average price of gasoline is $3.50 a gallon, and a loaf of bread is $2.00, and a pound of ground chuck is $3.59, and the average mortgage payment in, say, the Cleveland, Ohio, metro area is $800 monthly, and yada yada yada, do you get my drift? And that is for the people fortunate enough to be employed fully and gainfully. In the United States of America, %15 of our fellow citizens live below the poverty line. Now who is Dead Broke? Consider telling a family of four making ends meet on less than $24,5K a year that you, a former First Lady who spends more on haircuts and wine in a year than they do on...oh...living, are Dead Broke. These D.C. people need to get out and get The Questions. "Do you know how much a gallon of gasoline is in your district, or anyplace?" "How much is a steak at the grocery store?" "How much is a gallon of milk?" And no, it's not "wrong to focus on these small things in light of larger legislation" (paraphrasing here). Why? Because WE LIVE THE SMALL THINGS. I care a hell of a lot about the bullshit that the Supreme Court just shoved down my throat and up my skirt. But some people need to Get Real, too. Why do you think the Supreme Court handed down such tripe? Because they are Out Of Touch with the day to day realities of real people. Look at the vote. Duh. (And that's Real People. Not corporation people. Or people corporations. Or whatever the hell the 5/9 Supreme Beings want to call them/think they are.)

2. Ugly Americans and The New Gladiator Sport. I live, I guess, technically in a border state, but no Canadians come sneaking in across Lake Erie in milk jug barges or packed under fake-bottomed boats. I understand only from reading and watching news reports the concerns and issues that a burgeoning illegal immigrant population brings with it to a true border state community, its economy, and the government's resources. It has to be incredibly stressful in myriad ways. But what happened in Murrieta, California, made me so profoundly sick and ashamed. Three buses loaded with Central American women and children--all illegal immigrants--were met and turned away by protesters there. Over 100 angry, sign-carrying United States citizens swarmed the buses and shouted, among other things, "USA! USA! USA!" As I watched this on television, right before I left for my trip out of the USA, I had a churning mix of emotions. I knew the children inside those buses were already afraid, tired, and probably hungry and thirsty, too. This was not their fault, and it was not fair, as things often never are for children. I was shocked that such anger and hatred could be focused on women and children, and that it could turn so wildly afield: some posters were about Obama, some protesters interviewed rambled on about other political agendas. Finally, I was angry and ashamed. That chant, that cheer! I remembered it being so deafening during the USA/USSR hockey game at Lake Placid. It is supposed to be a cheer of pride, a cheer of support and national spirit. I felt such outrage that it had been co-opted for something so threatening, so ugly, so primitive. All I could think of was Shirley Jackson's short story "The Lottery." I honestly felt sick. How dare they? They do have a right to assemble, to speak freely. But they tarnish us all.

3. Guns, Guns, and More Guns. Unlike the paid politicians in Washington, D.C., who I am loathe now to call Our Representatives, my feelings never stop being wounded by news reports of shootings, bursts of gun violence such as Chicago's bloody Independence Day Weekend, and here in the Cleveland area, the sight of mothers so bowed down by profound grief that they literally cannot walk behind their child's casket. After Newtown failed to move these morons, I got very wide-eyed with the knowledge that those in government saw The American People as disposable or trivial, whereas their own Ideologies and Bank Balances were not. It has been difficult to live with the idea that, and this is not to be immodest or overly simplistic, Stupid and Sometimes Evil Idiots are in charge, and I cannot expect anything from them, ever. Something is terribly wrong when a heap of dead (American) elementary children and their teachers are an insufficient catalyst for change. Show me an unarmed nation, a gun-controlled nation with a high rate of gun violence akin to ours. Show me the graves of their dead schoolchildren. Show me their "good guys with guns." They're like Starbucks, the NRA. Everywhere, yet never enough.

Speaking of Starbucks, they've even infiltrated Niagara-on-the-Lake. So irritating. Can't a nice, independent coffee place open up there? No, apparently not. At least this Starbucks is in a completely closed building, though. No windows at all, and the door is always shut, although as we walk nearby, it opens about eleventy thousand times per half hour. Sigh. People. Many, many times, they get what they ask for, I suppose.

Rick just sent me a text message. Tough re-entry day back at work, he said. Isn't it terrible how Real Life ruins any Vacation, whether it's physical, mental, or spiritual? As I try to maintain my Zen--Post-Canadian Holiday Type--I think I'll ignore The Ugly today. And do my level best not to contribute to it.


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Faster, Higher, Stronger--And No, I'm Not Discussing A Martini

My father was pretty darn good at finding that one special interest of each child and using it as a gateway for the relationship. I was sort of The Creative One, so Dad always drew me pages and pages of odd shapes, and I would make something out of each one.  Susan was into music, so Dad would listen to her favourite cuts on albums, and they'd talk about the songs.  Patti, who was older and more serious, read huge books and followed The Politics, so they'd talk about that (and later Women's Lib, which confounded my father).  My brother Bobby was into all kinds of sports, so that was their thing.  They played catch, he coached Bobby in pitching, and now, both of them are in the local Sports Hall of Fame.

Let's just say that no one should ever expect to find me in any sports hall of fame anyplace for any reason ever.  I am not, nor have I ever been, Sporty. I can remember in high school phys ed, standing in the outfield during softball, my teacher Ms. Sayre, screaming, "Nance, your ball! Coming right at you!" and me, standing there inspecting my nails, saying, "Uh huh. Okay," and stepping out of the way.  (The only reason I was even in the outfield was because A) I didn't think anyone would hit it out there, and B) there was a little bit of shade from the shed nearby.

Playing sports is worky.  And sweaty.  I prefer working my fantasy basketball team and spectator sporting. Which leads us neatly into today's question:

Did you watch the Winter Olympics?  Which events did you enjoy seeing the most?

I watched very little of the Sochi games, and even then it was because of the dreaded Nothing Else Is On Syndrome.  What the heck has happened to Olympic coverage?  Is it just me?  Because I used to watch a ton of Olympic events, and not only when I was a kid, either.  I remember watching the Lillehammer games devotedly.  Now, Somebody In Charge decides what I am permitted to watch, and usually it is endless hours of stuff I Don't Care About or stuff That Is Kinda or Mostly Boring.  Add to that the fact that, no matter where you go on the Interwebs or even broadcast television, they announce the results without any warning, and it's hard to care what happens when you finally do see it.  If you do.

Admittedly, the Winter Games don't hold as much interest for me as the Summer Games do.  I hate snow and winter so much that watching these people willingly cavort around out there actually irritates me.  And makes me cold.  And I get sick of hearing them talk about how lousy the snow is, or how bad the ice is, or how they've had to make snow and how much, and yada yada yada.  Here's an idea:  have the Winter Games in Northeastern Ohio where WE HAVE WINTER WHEN IT IS WINTER.  D U H.

I like to watch luge, skeleton, and ski jump.  I like some curling because it is Canadian and because it is so odd and befuddling.  And because they wear such fun uniforms.  Luge and skeleton scare the hell out of me because it's just a person and a sled. Period.  At something like eighty miles an hour.  Ski jumping is fun to watch for a little bit, and then it gets repetitive, so Rick and I practice our British and Australian accents and do our own commentary, inventing harsh penalties for minuscule infractions, and predicting horrible tragedies.

It's all very morbid and awful and we laugh like rabid hyenas the entire time.  "Well, that's not getting him on the podium, Nigel.  At least four tenths come off the top for that head position.  Oh no, oh no!  If he doesn't bring that tibia back into line right now, right now, his center of gravity will be too far forward and he's looking at an absolutely crushing faceplant. Oh my, what a tragedy, and after all the work he's put in since that terrible fall from the Ferris wheel last year."

Maybe the Games were overhyped; maybe they weren't hyped enough. I don't know.  I do know I was glad when they were over.  Rick was glad because then his ritual of watching Dr. Phil with a beer when he got home from work could resume and his TV schedule was back in order.  I was glad, in part, because I don't like the word "Sochi."  It sounds like a made-up Mama word for a pacifier.

I'm sure I'm in the minority here, so fire away in comments.  Also, Feedburner and Blogger are completely estranged now.  I don't know what to do, but I keep trying.  Today, it told me I have no email subscribers, so if anyone has any ideas, please let me know.  Thank you.

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I'm Back--Again--And I Might Shave My Head (But Not In Honor Of The Pseudo-Druids)



 It's like all I do is pack, unpack, and repack my suitcase. 

Rick and I have just returned from an extended holiday at Niagara-on-the-Lake in Wonderful Canada.  We thought we'd be escaping from the searing heatwave here in NEO, but The Canadians, who are everso polite at all times, kindly provided identical climatalogical conditions there so that we would not miss it.

Sigh.

But why should I bitch?  Our car has airconditioning and so did all of the wineries.  Suffering was minimal.

(Allow me for a moment, however, to digress here and Be A Stereotypical Woman and say this:  My hair looked like crap and gave me fits the entire six days of this vacation as well as the preceding one in Virginia.  So much so that, in Virginia, I called my stylist from the resort in order to book an appointment for the day I returned, and my hair still looked like hell during my Canadian vacation.  Honestly, I've just had it.  I've switched shampoos four times, styling gel three times, tried something called a "root volumizer", and used a round brush while I blow dry.  I've spent more time with my hair in the past month than I did with my kids during most of their babyhoods.  At the age of fifty-three, I want to let go of My Hair as an Issue.  I know my Vanity is an enormous Part Of My Pathology--I KNOW THAT.  But every single woman in the world knows that, even if you have a mustard stain on your shirt, if your Hair Looks Great, nothing else matters.  Even your mascara and do not get me started on that.)

Heavy Sigh.  Anyway.

On one of the days when it was not terribly torrid, we went to The Niagara Horticultural College grounds and walked all over for hours, looking at all the various plants and trees and gorgeous vegetable and herb plantings.  It took all my restraint not to raid some incredible onions, ruffly lettuces, perfectly chubby and charming cabbages, and grab some other interesting things I knew would be much happier in my yard.  They have so many lovely trees there, too, and I am fascinated by the variety and placement of some of them, and the striking black squirrels they attract.

Near a large pond area was a Dawn Redwood, one of my favorite trees.  As we approached it, we noticed these little...figures assembling all around its base.  Here, look:

Can you see them?  I took the photo with my iPhone as I walked nearer and nearer.  I thought that perhaps they were a student project because they look like little carvings--like little Druids or something, and they were all converging to the right, like they were headed to worship or something.  We moved closer to get a better look and another shot:



I soon discovered that these are, in fact, the upraised roots of this Dawn Redwood tree.  They are very sturdy and some are covered in bark.  There were other Dawn Redwoods on the grounds, and none but this had the little Druid Root People.  This tree, though, was the only one near the water.

Here's a little clutch standing by the shore, like a family.  Aren't they just fascinating?  It's unfortunate that there is no one on the grounds or anyplace to ask about the interesting things you see at the College.  I would have loved to know anything about this phenomenon.  It's not something I recall from my reading of The Wild Trees, the terrific book that inspired my love of redwoods.  But it was a long time ago that I read it; I think it's time to visit it again.

Once we were done wandering, we sat on a bench near the entrance to have a cold drink and do a little people-watching. The Niagara area is always great for that because it draws so many international visitors.  We sat near a very lovely, very patient horse hitched to a carriage-for-hire.  Nearby, its companion also waited, just as beautiful, but not nearly as patient, for it stamped its rear hoof whenever a child came near.  Soon, we heard a lot of screaming.  Not pained or frightened, just some kid who felt like screaming.  It was a black-haired boy of about four with obviously a lot of energy.  His parents were completely indifferent.  He approached the cranky horse, who stamped his rear hoof several times.  The driver skillfully intercepted the boy and stood at the horse's head.  The patient horse was not so lucky.  At least the boy settled somewhat for the following scene:

Boy approaches horse.  Mother and father rush over.  Father bends to speak to boy and then encourages him to pet the horse.  Mother is obviously fretting, but holds up camera for photo.

Nance:  That poor, long-suffering horse.  Now that kid is going to badger it.  You know darn well that instead of petting it, he'll clobber it.
Rick:  The parents are oblivious.
Nance:  I would think the best way to approach that horse would be to--
Rick:  (interrupting)--get in there as quick as you can and just go for it!  Before the horse even knows what hit it!
Nance:  (looks at him in shock and disbelief)...What I was going to say is "hold the kid's hand and pet it very slowly so that he doesn't go crazy".  What in the hell...? 
Rick:  Or, you could try that.  Yeah.  That.

End Scene.

I Don't Look At It As Wine; I Look At It As A Foreign Investment

So! How is it that we ended up with yet more wine? I'd like to quote the famous reason for scaling the peaks of Everest: because it's there! Or, to loosely paraphrase the iconic quote from Field of Dreams, "if I taste it, I will buy."

We took a drive up to The Bench area again to pick up some mead and some wine for my roomie Andrew, as well as to revisit Cornerstone Estates to try their port, which was not available in July. The port was lovely, tawny and warm--perfect for taking the chill off a cold afternoon or relaxing after a long day at The Rock. On our way back to the Q.E.W. (Queen Elizabeth Way highway), we stopped at a winery called Vineland Estates. As soon as we entered, I was a bit put off; it was very large and commercial. I prefer smaller wineries, and this one gave off a very corporate air. But, we were there, so we went up to the tasting bar and a young man named Hayden began to take care of us. He introduced us to the winery and then our tasting began. He was incredibly knowledgeable and accommodating, and at one point he said, "How much do you want to taste? Because I have an idea where I want to take you, but I need to know how to get you there." Oh, that was all I needed to hear! "Hayden," I said, "I'm good for several...oh, quite a few more varieties!"

Basically, I lost count. And it was all gorgeous. Here are the standouts:

Vineland 2007 Dry Riesling: Like biting into a snappy, cool Granny Smith apple. Very young, very drinkable, almost no mineral taste and a perfect acidity. If I had not already bought so much wine in July, I would have bought at least a case of this. A steal at $13.

Vineland 2006 Cabernet-Merlot: Smoky and cedary with just a hint of plum and berry jam in the back and in the bouquet. This is almost like a good Meritage in that it would be a terrific red meat wine. I'm serving it with steak. I was disappointed with all the Meritages I tried after I forgot to pick up another one at Rosewood. This one was a major bargain at $15.

2006 Syrah Reserve: Oh God. I don't drink red often, and when I do, I don't drink the trendy Syrah/Shiraz. But this wine is lovely. The bouquet is of berries and spice, and the wine is velvety but not heavy in the mouth. There is a brisk finish that is fruit-forward, reminiscent of bing cherries, and there is almost no tannic feel. If you're used to Napa or Australian Syrah/Shiraz wines, this one is not so leggy and chewy even though it is 12% alcohol. I cannot believe I spent $40 on it. But actually, Rick did. Holy crap. I know. I know!

(But those prices are in Canadian Money. And the exchange rate is favorable now. So, I'm good!)

The next day we confined ourselves to the NotL wineries: we visited our favorite ones to say hello to friends and finished our friends' (and a certain son's) shopping lists, and then we had to scope out the newest winery in town that had mystified and intrigued the locals and sparked a ton of gossip. That winery was Southbrook, also known as The Wall.

Southbrook looks pretty avant garde for NotL--it resides within a massive purple wall that stretches well past both ends of its building proper. No one can figure out if it has a real purpose, but as far as I can tell, it's basically there for "art." By the time we rolled up on Southbrook, Rick and I had both had plenty of wine, but we had to satisfy our curiosity. So, we decided to get a good look at The Wall and limit ourselves to their specialty, the fruit wines. Southbrook makes four of them, cassis (blackcurrant), blueberry, blackberry, and framboise (raspberry). These wines are so concentrated in flavor and so pungent that they are almost more like liqueurs, except that they are not syrupy or cloyingly sweet. Of the four, we bought the blackberry and the framboise, which I found to be the most flavorful and to have the most fruit at the finish. The cassis--and I love blackcurrant--was disappointing at the end. The flavor simply faded away after the swallow. No punch. I am no fan of blueberries, but that variety had the same failing. Each elegant looking bottle is $15.75.

Don't those wines all sound tempting and gorgeous? And with the U.S. dollar doing so much better now, really, I was smart to buy more wine at this time.

Oh Canada! Without You, We Would Have More Room In The Cellar For Non-Alcoholic Things

Que un weekend merveilleux!

For those of you who do not read The Tie Report, where I made mention of it, (really, how could you not? It is a fashion tour de force! But, I forgive.) you may not have known that I was away on a three-day jaunt with Rick and just arrived back at the Dept. We gave in to the siren call of Niagara-on-the-Lake yet again and had another relaxing time seeing terrific theater, meeting lovely people, and discovering yet more gorgeous and tempting wines to share with you here.

Give me a day or two for re-entry into my Real Life (sigh!), and I'll introduce you to a new Niagara-on-the-Lake winery known for its commanding structural oddity as well as its line of fruit wines, and I'll take you back out to The Bench for a taste of some rieslings and reds that almost melted the Dept.'s VISA card. How on earth did we end up, after bringing back almost five cases only three months ago, bringing back another case of wine? We're hopeless.

Be back soon. And don't judge!

Turns Out That I've Had What It Takes All Along!

Sorry for the hiatus, but I've been in a sort of self-imposed Cone Of Silence here at the Dept. I'm shying away from The Media Circus as of late. Why? Well, holy crap! It turns out that I'm super-qualified to be Vice President, that's why! Let me run down my case for you:

1. Foreign Relations: My roommate in college was Jewish. I've had foreign exchange students in my classes from Finland, Germany, and Switzerland. I am half Croatian and my best friend all through school was Serbian, which shows that I have excellent skills in negotiating beyond age-old nationalistic Balkan grudges.

2. Foreign Policy: I have travelled in Canada often, including the provinces of Alberta, British Columbia, and Ontario. In 6th grade, my foreign country report was on Norway, and I received an "A." I have seen all of Daniel Day-Lewis's movies set in Ireland and feel pretty well-versed in the whole IRA thing. Also, since my concentration in college was in English literature, I'm pretty up on England.

3. Lipstick: I wear it daily--Revlon Rum Raisin. Once in a while, Revlon Cappucino.

4. Domestic Issues: I've travelled to 27 of the United States. I've flown over more, but I don't think it's fair to count those. My husband is a terrific handyman and my two sons aren't oddly-named or prematurely parents, but I am a MOM and a WIFE, nonetheless. I chose to have both my children...oh, wait. Wrong script.

5. Fiscal Responsibility: I worked at City Bank as a teller across from U.S. Steel and Lake Terminal Railroad during summers to put myself through college. On the Fridays those two places got paid, the lines were out the doors nonstop. I would run hundreds of thousands of dollars through my window alone, and at the end of the day, I would still balance to the penny. As newlyweds, Rick and I had the two worst careers in 1981 in NE Ohio: teacher and carpenter. Neither of us could find a job. I worked at the bank and he sold shoes. We balanced our checkbook to the last cent and that summer, we rolled change to see A MOVIE. And my prowess at shoe bargains goes without saying. Come ON. Well-documented. A given at this point. Duh.

6. Executive Experience: I have been the advisor for the school's literary magazine for 20 years. I have one year of experience as a junior high student activities advisor. I have been in charge of a high-school classroom five times a day for 182 days a year for 28 years. And for 8 memorable years, I was Third Floor Tornado Spotter, a weighty responsibility that stays with me still.

7. Technology: I don't have to put up some crap on Ebay. This blog. 'Nuff said. Please. I'm boring you right now. Do I even have to href a bunch of baloney? No. I can html and snipurl rings around...oh, nevermind.

8. Wardrobe: I was wearing pencil skirts way before Certain People were even thinking about stacked heels and cropped jackets. Spare me. Let me just say that I have moved on to several other Fashion Planes already, people. Oh. My. If I posted my Burberry plaid pumps right now, there would be Bedlam. I'm just saying.

9. Bridge to Nowhere: I've been to Ketchikan, one of the proposed terminii of the Bridge. It is "Alaska's first city and the salmon capital of the world." There are more salmon there than people. There are more jewelry shops there than people. It's way tiny. Very scenic, but it would be like connecting your front and back yards with the Golden Gate Bridge. I vote No before, during, and after. Period. I'm not a fan of bridges anyway, except for Jeff Bridges, who I think is a pretty good actor and sorta underrated.

Okay.

Personally, I want my Vice President to be Someone Who Is Way Smart and NOT YOUR AVERAGE PERSON OFF THE STOOL AT STARBUCKS. Who cares whether or not you can "identify with" your President or Vice President? People, give me a big freaking break. Isn't it time to have someone sitting in The Big Chairs who is so damned smart that it takes your breath away? Someone who is dignified and together and brilliant and inspirational? And wouldn't it be great if other leaders and other people met them and said, "Wow! What incredible individuals!"

And if those people then, by association, thought that about ALL OF US?

Day Two--So Much Wine, So Little Time (But We Made The Most Of It)

Sunday dawned pleasant and partly sunny. We lingered over breakfast and decided that we had no real agenda other than to visit Rosewood Estates Winery and Meadery in nearby Beamsville. Our charming innkeeper Tim had thoughtfully printed out directions ("straight from Google!") from the front door of the inn to the drive of the place. We packed up our cooler and snack bag, piled into the car, and set out.

The winery is in a lovely setting complete with a pond and honking Canada geese, for whom we stopped (and then made Ali get out and chase from the side of the road. One of them hissed at her and stuck out its tongue. They are really mean.). The building itself is stately and gorgeous. We were the only visitors, so we were able to get very personal service. We tasted their wines, but of course we were anxious to get to the meads, of which they produce two. The traditional mead is their Harvest Gold dry; the other is a varietal called Mon Cherie, which is a rosé mead made by adding cherries. None of us had ever tasted mead before, so we had no idea what to expect in aroma, taste, appearance...anything. And it was different than we thought in all of those categories! First, I expected it to be a little thicker, kind of like syrup since mead is, after all, fermented honey. I also expected it to smell like honey and nothing else. Finally, I expected it to taste very sweet and sugary, but still like wine.

It was none of those things! The mead was just the same viscosity as wine or water. It had a sort of floral smell overall, then a bit of a honey note. (The Mon Cherie did have that bouquet of cherries also.) But there was also a sort of musty, lavender smell. Finally, the taste: I almost cannot describe it. I'm not even sure I like it! It's a bit musky, floral, a touch of vanilla in the finish, but not an overwhelming amount of honey, nor was there the expected sweetness. The Mon Cherie had the cherry note, but it was not a primary note. It was the oddest sensation, to drink "wine" and not have the sensation of "grape" or "fruit." Rick bought two bottles of it, though, so I will have time to culture my palate a little and see what I think. In addition to the mead, we bought a bottle of their Meritage. This is a variety of wine I had been tasting with intent to purchase at each winery, but I had been mightily disappointed until Rosewood. Meritage is a red wine that kind of reminds me of a "Gentlemen's Club", in that it evokes a paneled study, leather-bound volumes, a good cigar, and a big marbled steak. It's oaky but not too tannic, has a little bit of plumminess and almost a cocoa finish. So! Our big Mead Adventure accomplished, we inquired about wineries in the vicinity. "There are tons right along this road!" said our tasting guide. "There's one right next door; didn't you see it?"
We had, but because it was made of material and had architecture so similar to Rosewood, we assumed it was part of their winery. It was, in fact, a place called Angels Gate.

I won't spend much time on this winery because we didn't spend much time there, and I don't recommend you do, either, if you are ever in The Bench area. It's beautiful, yes, but it's not very welcoming and although they had a positively orgasmic Old Vine Chardonnay there (at $25 a bottle, steep if you are buying a case, I think, and too good for just one or two bottles, thereby making it just too darn pricey) their Gamay Noir is what I need to warn you off of. When I went to taste it, the smell of it was downright nauseating. It smelled exactly like what a wet load of laundry reeks of when you've forgotten it in the washer for a day or two on a hot day--that sort of wet, used, three-day old dishrag smell. Funky, mildewy...urgh. I gently said to the girl, "Could you smell this, please? I think something is amiss." The girl smelled it and sort of wrinkled up her nose a bit. Then she called on another girl, and this girl (who was all of 25), after hearing a brief explanation, poured a sample, swirled it, and took a whiff. She looked at the other girl, looked at me, and said very patronizingly, "That's what it smells like. There might be a bit of bottle shock, but it's fine." What a load of bullshit. Bottle shock makes wine tasteless or a bit lackluster and watery. It doesn't make them stink like wet dog. Besides, if a winery is serving brand new wine at a tasting bar before it is past the danger of bottle shock, then they have no idea what they are doing, and I am not confident in their product or their staff. I said, "Oh. Well, thank you then." We ended our tasting immediately. And left. But I will say this: that Old Vine Chardonnay was incredible--smooth, butterscotchy with a hint of vanilla and a bit toasty. Heaven. But one bottle would just make me crazy for more, and it's too pricey.

We visited at least six more wineries, and I can't possibly go into detail about all of them, but I will give you highlights of a few of them and their wines:

Mountain Road Wine Company was definitely a highlight, though not for atmosphere, certainly: it was like walking into a small basement studio apartment. When we pulled up, there were two women eating lunch at an umbrella table at the end of the driveway. As soon as we stopped the car, they hurriedly gathered up their things and scurried inside. They were the sole employees! They were so pleasant and knowledgeable, and this winery offers a full tasting of all of their wines, including all of their icewines. This is unheard of at all NotL wineries. Icewine runs about $70 a bottle (on average), so wineries charge to taste it. Not Mountain Road! We tasted all 4 of their icewines. And let me tell you: when I tasted their Cabernet Franc icewine, I had to hold onto the edge of the counter to keep from swooning and moaning and...well, let's just say that they need to put at least an 'R' rating on that stuff. It is incredible. My eyeballs literally rolled back in my head. Rick said, "She doesn't need me anymore." Nice man...he bought me a bottle anyway. They also have a wonderful table wine simply called Mountain Road Red that would be great with Italian food or nibblies--you know, snackies like chips, cheese and crackers, grapes, etc.

Cornerstone Winery is run by a Polish couple, and the draw here is their fruit wines. If you are the type of person who likes the idea of drinking wine, but wishes it was more fruity and...well, less sharpish and aged-tasting on your palate, then these wines are for you. Cornerstone has peach, apricot, cherry, and strawberry wines that were inspired by Wanda, the winemaker's wife, who wanted something different. The strawberry is especially wonderful--the fruit flavor is bountiful and natural. It's like drinking Smucker's strawberry preserves, but not so cloyingly sweet. Next year, Cornerstone will have a port wine available, something I have never seen at a winery in NotL or The Bench.

Thirty Bench is a pretty big player in The Bench area. When we walked in, we were swooped in upon by a "Private Wine Consultant" who offered to take us on a personalized tour and private tasting for ten dollars each. We declined and were summarily shown the tasting area and given the standard Free Tasting of two wines, the house riesling and the house red. But, that was okay because the 2007 Thirty Bench Riesling is lovely. It is crisp, clean, and has a beautiful aroma of pears and citrus. The finish has a great snap of lime. I loved it and bought it.

Crown Bench is an interesting place with a Santa Clausy Hungarian vintner who is at once pretentious and passionate about The Bench area and his wines. He is also crazy knowledgeable about all things oenological. By this time, I'm a bit buzzed, so I'll pretty much talk to anyone and listen to anything, so he was shamelessly flattered. The cool thing here is this guy's icewines: he makes them in seemingly endless varieties and a tasting includes one of your choice. I chose one called "Chocolate Ambrosia" and Jared chose "Hot Ice", which was flavored with chiles. All I ended up buying was a bottle of his Verjus, a gourmet cooking item.

As I said, there were a couple other wineries--maybe three, maybe four--one of them is affiliated with Dan Aykroyd's label--and we bought wine at a couple of them. But these were the highlights of our trip to The Bench.

Now do you see why we brought home more than 50 bottles of wine? Looking back, I'm surprised we didn't end up with much more!

A Taste Of My Vaca-hic-tion--The First Two Cases (Or So)

Sigh.

Now that I've gone and told you that I crossed the border with over 50 (FIFTY) bottles of wine, some of you are curious as to just where I got all this vino, and if all I did on this little vacance of mine was to simply go meandering about the Ontario countryside, swishing and not spitting.

If only!

Of course, I jest.

Our primary focus when we jaunt off to Canada is The Shaw Festival in Niagara-on-the-Lake, (NotL from here on out, because it is such a bitch to type!). Click that hotlink when you get a chance and check it out; there are short previews of a couple of the plays available to watch, lots of information and plot synopses, and the Festival runs through Nov. 2nd. There are many great deals on tickets available, especially for students and those 30 and under. We saw two productions this time, Mrs. Warren's Profession and Belle Moral, which is a new play submitted under the newly-expanded rules of The Shaw. Heretofore, The Shaw Festival only put on those plays written during the era of George Bernard Shaw, but now they have decided to include plays that are set during the era of GBS. Both plays were extremely well done, but we vastly preferred Belle Moral, due to the preachiness, long-winded speeches, and lack of comic relief in MW'sP.

Our second reason for the trip was to score some more of Caroline Cellars' Pinot Cherry wine. We discovered this gem on our last trip up to NotL in December. And we REdiscovered it on Independence Day when we had our now infamous Liquid Dinner To Celebrate The Birth Of Our Nation. It's a gorgeous light red with a cherry finish that is lovely when barely chilled. Caroline Cellars was one of the first wineries we hit on Saturday in NotL because I wanted to be sure we could get a case. While we were there, of course I thought it prudent and only polite to taste all of their offerings. They also had a terrific new rosé, very aromatic and pretty, so we bought some of that as well, and headed out to our most favorite winery of all. This one actually was the sole reason for our road trip back in December. I know, how sad.

I had emailed Rosi at Cattail Creek that we were coming, and she emailed me back immediately. She was thrilled that we were on our way--they had a bunch of new reds she wanted us to taste with her. But she was sad to inform us that our all-time favorite wine, the 2006 Off-Dry Reisling--an award-winner for them!--was completely gone. (Ha ha! Not for us! We still have almost a case! ) We zipped over there for a huggy reunion and got down to serious business. Rosi does very generous pours...of all the wines...and we bought another case. This time a split of half Chardonnay and half Gamay. The Chardonnay....oh my. So buttery and lightly oaked and smooth that it was like biting into a piece of morning toast. Mmmmmmm. And the Gamay was like a round, plummy Beaujolais, only crisper, with a small spice note in the background.

This was our third tasting because we had started at another winery to allow Jared's girlfriend Ali to go on a full tour of a winery. By now, I've had...oh, let's just say a lot of wine. I've only dumped probably two. And we've already bought 28 bottles. It's amazing how it just adds up!

Then we simply had to go to Reif Estates Winery to visit our buddies, Carol and Dawn, two sisters in the wine boutique and tasting bar there. We met them in December and they fell in love with Jared and wanted to fix him up with Carol's daughter. (They also shamelessly flirted with Rick, which is understandable--they are in his demographic. All women over the age of 55 adore my husband, and the older they get, the more they love him. In this case, it is absolutely okay because it means free wine tasting. I'm no dummy.) Astonishingly, we see both ladies and they remember us immediately without us even saying anything! Carol is now the manager of the boutique/tasting bar, and she tells the bartender "Give these people anything they want" and shoots them The Look. We taste everything on the tasting menu at no charge. Both ladies stop by often and chat and flirt. Carol tries to fix Ali up with the young man in charge of our tasting in order to free Jared up for her daughter "who is on Facebook, by the way." As we leave, Ali is presented with a free box of icewine chocolates by Carol, who explains, "Since I was a little bit mean." Rick and I buy...oh, I forget, but I think two...three bottles...? Some. (Just kidding. We got a couple of bottles of their Gamay Rosé, which is not only pretty to look at, but has a very beautiful bouquet of strawberry and rhubarb. The finish is not tannic at all, and it is only mildly sweet. As you can tell, we're going in for light reds a bit, and rosés.)

At that point, basically, I was hammered. I'm not going to lie. We had taken along some food in the car, but I had drunk quite a bit of wine, and because we had gone back to very familiar wineries with staff we had developed a relationship with (or as Jared so eloquently put it "we rolled VIP"), we had been treated to some...extremely generous pours. We decided to call it a day after we ran into one last winery merely to pick up a bottle of wine that the vintner likes to call Darth Vader--it's a sinisterly dark and smoky 2003 Cabernet that, for some reason, I really enjoy even though I normally do not like big oaky reds. Rick and Jared have a major aversion to this winery, and admittedly, I'm not a fan, either. It smells musty and doggy, and seems sort of like it's for The Old Folks. Just gives off a really odd vibe. But that Cab--nice.

It was definitely time to pack it in. We were seeing a play that night, and we had to get cleaned up, find a restaurant, and get some dinner. We had succeeded in our Plan For The Day, which was to get a case of Pinot Cherry, take Ali on a winery tour, and go back to visit Rosi and her new reds at Cattail.

On Sunday we had the Entire Day To Do Wineries, and we had A MISSION. We had heard of a Winery & Meadery in a town about 40 miles away. For years, I had read about and taught about knights and lords and ladies drinking mead. I wanted to try it! Sunday would be the day. And while we were there, we'd investigate the other wineries in that area, known as "The Bench".

I'll take you with me in the next post. Bring a bottle of your favorite--excuse me, that'd be favourite--vintage, and a lovely glass.

Back To Life; Back To Reality

It's over. I have returned. I vastly overpacked but wore all three pairs of shoes. My wardrobe was appropriate, but my hair (thanks to an abundance of humidity) looked terrible every single moment except for the first evening's play, where I considered asking them to keep the house lights up so that everyone could appreciate it--my hair, I mean--but decided it would be vain. After all, the audience had gathered there to see a professional performance of George Bernard Shaw's Mrs. Warren's Profession, not my coif.

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On the way to Canada, the following dialog took place:
Me: Hey, did you see that?
Rick: What?
Me: There was a guy standing on top of that water tower!
Rick: Did he have a gun?
Me: No...
Rick: Then don't worry about it.
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Approximately three blocks from our house, we discovered that we had left for our four-hour trip without amassing any CDs to listen to. Rick said, "Oh, don't worry. I grabbed some out of my truck." There was a long moment of silence as Jared and I absorbed this news. I turned to the back seat and exchanged a horror-laden glance with him. "What?" Rick said defensively. "Nothing," we assured him. But we knew what we were in for. Rick's musical taste is...eclectic in the extreme. And his CD collection consists of burned discs of not names, but graphics like a blue Sharpie cloud scribbled on it, or a red Sharpie cloud scrawled on it, or the dreaded blank CDs which are like reaching into a grab-bag and drawing out a prize wrapped in tissue paper: you have no clue what might be inside. Thus, we immediately instituted a Two-Skip Invocation Rule, whereby anyone in the car can invoke two skips. If a song comes on that a listener cannot abide, he or she can simply state "Skip", and Rick (who has audio system controls on the steering wheel--I know, how cool is MY NEW CAR!?) will simply skip that track, no questions asked. Well, let me tell you...we had a wild, unconventional potpourri of Earth, Wind & Fire, Keith Urban, Carl Orff, Wang Chung, Eminem, Wayne Wonder, Seal, Edwin Starr, The Cars, oh...the list is endless and incredible. He tried to sneak some Kid Rock and Alan Jackson in there, but I invoked. Oooh, baby, did I invoke. All I can say is, thank heavens for Blue Cloud Disc. Wait...or was it Red Scribble? Never mind.
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Things got a little sketchy at the border coming home. I am all about BORDER SECURITY. I really am. And I realize that, perhaps, four and a half cases of wine seems like a lot for just four people after only a long weekend. I do. But really, isn't asking, "What are you going to do with 50 bottles of wine?" kind of...dumb? And disingenuous? And did the Customs Officer have to preface his question with "Oh my God! That's like...fifty bottles!" Geeze.

Trying to make me feel bad.

Dept. Of Nance Endorses...

Despite tremendous pressure from all quarters, the Dept. of Nance is withholding its Official Endorsement of a Democratic Candidate for President at this time. Ohio's Primary is not until March 4th, and there is still sufficient time for all Buckeye State voters (and Marylanders, and Virginians, etc.) to carefully and thoughtfully consider both viable candidates for the Highest Office In The Land. (Huh? "Other party?" What "other party?") Far be it from me to exert any outside pressure upon anyone still considering his or her choice at this time, especially when both Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton are scheduled to be in Cleveland, Ohio, debating the issues at Cleveland State University, moderated by Meet the Press's Tim Russert and/or Brian Williams, of NBC Nightly News fame.

I am still seething over the incredibly archaic practice of these ridiculously front-loaded primaries in which first, a couple of states are fussed over and "frontrunners" are declared; then, a few mores states get to decide who half of the country gets to vote for. Finally, on a "Super Tuesday," the remainder of the candidates are fodder for that half of the country, and when the rest of us get to cast our ballots, it's like the dingoes in the Outback snarling over the bones. What the hell kind of system is that when a field of more than a dozen is cut back to five before everyone even gets to vote? It's time for a National Primary.

But I digress. Sigh.

Despite the fact that I will not endorse a Presidential Candidate at this time, the Dept. of Nance is happy to give its Official Endorsement to the following:

The Novia Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever. This dog is my new favorite dog to watch for in all televised dog shows, replacing both the Boxer and the Bernese Mountain Dog. It has a very lovely face and demeanor, and looks placid and friendly. It's unusual and has a cool name, and as a bonus, is Canadian. I read up on it, and it has a life span of 14 years and is good with children. Also charming is its proclivity to "round up and herd smaller pets."

Nutella. This is, quite simply, an orgasm in a jar. I thought I had gotten over this chocolate and hazelnut spread about a year and a half ago, but it's not so. I cannot have it in the house and feel safe. On a graham cracker, on a banana, or just on a spoon...excuse me. I'll be right back. Or not.

L'Oreal Voluminous Mascara. I cannot live without mascara, yet I am cheap about makeup because I think most of it is a scam. Clinique, Lancome, all that crap that is in the big department stores--I used to use it and lament the big bucks it cost me. I always came back to the drugstore brands, and later I was vindicated by Paula Begoun (author of Don't Go to the Cosmetics Counter without Me) . My eyelashes will never be without this product. I am vain; I know it and I'm not going to lie. This stuff is about $7.50 a tube. Sometimes Walgreen's puts it on sale for $4.50, or on a BOGO. I stock up like it's chocolate.

Bunnies. Cutest animals ever on a consistent basis. Whether they are full-grown or babies, bunnies are always cute. They are grossly underutilized in advertising media. I will never stop championing their cause. As a matter of fact, I may start putting a daily or weekly bunny in my sidebar until someone finally gives Bunnies Everywhere their due. Bunnies--Not Just For Easter Anymore.

Lay's Classic Potato Chips. This is the World's Most Dangerous Snack Food. I have been known to threaten severe bodily injury just for the folded ones.

Pilot's Precise V5/7 Rolling Ball Pen. Teachers everywhere know what a pain it is to find a perfect grading pen. This is it. It is smooth, fine, and does not tire after grading eleventy billion horrid essays about "How the Salem Witch Trials were a test of Puritanism." Plus, it has the added benefit of the little window in the barrel to (A) show the level of ink and (B) allow you to tell a student that it is filled with the blood of former Creative Writing II students.

Project Runway. I hate reality television on principle because it isn't reality. I mean, how many times are you ever stuck on an island or dared to eat pig testicles or paired up to samba with a has-been prizefighter? Exactly. But Bravo TV's Project Runway (aka PJR) is a creative show full of talented young designers who have to cobble together clothes that show their design point of view within a shockingly short time limit and with a new challenge each week. It also forces very disparate personalities to work closely together, and this is fun to watch. Add to that the fact that I love to listen to gay guys snipe at people and critique fashion, and I'm in heaven every Wednesday at 10 PM EST. One designer recently eliminated actually quipped, "Life is too short to have on a bad outfit." Words to live by.

I'll be watching the Interwebs closely for all of your endorsements, DoN readers. Isn't Democracy wonderful?