It’s slowly driving me potty. This weather is weird. Some days we’re finally in Summer and then a few days later back to Winter. I looked at the forecast for the next two weeks and the seasons are taking it in shifts; four days on and four days off. This is the only reason I wish we were still in Melaque where they had 180 straight days without rain.
The garden is as totally confused as I am. The forecast says rain, so I don’t water. Then we get no rain for several days. The sun comes out and it starts raining, just after I’ve finished watering. Unfortunately, our grow-op is as confused as the rest of the garden and is slow to take off. Perhaps I should buy some grow lights and do it in the shed.
I shouldn’t complain I suppose. We could be in the Ukraine being rained on by another mad man’s missiles. Could you imagine what it would be like if idiot Trump was still president? He would be supplying arms to his pal Putin. But that’s another rant I shouldn’t get into.
Regardless of the weather, we have done a lot of socializing lately. A dinner invitation here, a happy hour invite there; people dropping in just to visit. We’re having a hard time keeping up, and the wine keeps running out.
Even though I’ve cut back a lot on my wine consumption we still frequently run out and have to harass our supplier to get more. Forget this 28-day nonsense, I think they should concentrate on the 28-hour variety; I’m sure there must be some out there. I just remembered that back in the day there was a wine that came as a powder and all you had to was add water. I think that idea should be revisited. They should make it in cube form and that would bring a whole new meaning to the question “One lump or two?”
When people come to visit the wine situation gets worse as some of them are so inconsiderate. It’s not that they don’t bring any, it’s because they drink all their own and don’t leave any behind for us.
“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming “Wow! What a Ride!”—― Hunter S. Thompson.
And, that is our philosophy!