Wine Trail

Once again, under the hashtag of #OtherPeopleGoOnTripsIGoOnAdventures I have hit upon another one of those moments that makes MyPoolBoy so glad that he didn't marry someone boring.

We decided that we needed a bottle of our favorite winery's blackberry / blueberry wine.  Alas, it was before the winery was open (because apparently civilized people don't start going to the winery before noon -- or they are going to "sell no wine before its time" or some bullsh1t).

That's ok, I think.  The liquor store downtown opens at 10 and they have it.  (Because white trash folks WILL go to the liquor store before noon.)
Alas, they were sold out. '

What to do, what to do?

Soooooo, I went to the winery website and found locations where it could be procured, and I tried to keep a straight face when I instructed MyPoolBoy that he needed to drive out to the deer processor.

Deer.

Processor.

I sent him in because HE would not look out of place in the deer processor shop.  He opened the door and turned right back around and motioned for me to come in.  Because while he does not look out of place IN the deer processor shop, he does seem out of place BUYING WINE at the deer processor shop.  Y'all.  We bought wine at the deer processor.

I am happy to report that as a result of our efforts, we successfully obtained not just one but THREE bottles of wine.

And a bag of jerky.

I Would Like to Thank...

First, thanks to the student who gave me the bag of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies for Teacher Appreciation Week this morning. They are gone. Along with this week's efforts to lose weight.

Next, thanks to MyPoolBoy for the beautiful bottle of cheap Merlot that accompanied the box of dishwashing detergent back from your trip to the store. Unlike the cookies, it is not gone yet, but I'm working on it. Perhaps this will deter any further suffering that you might incur due to my current hormonal state, including the unfortunate play-by-play I related to you this morning concerning my menstrual cycle and its surrounding conditions and/or circumstances. (Sorry 'bout that!) BTW - the wine has been opened, the Cascade has not.

Finally, thanks to a Facebook friend for sharing the link to this clip. I must say that although nothing ever leaves ME completely speechless, this little gem left me scratching my head and barely managing to muster a "wow" from an already compromised state of semi-consciousness this evening (remember - Milano cookies + Merlot + hormones).



I hereby solemnly vow to Felix that this fabulous ditty will be our anthem for karaoke night at the coast this year since we always sleep together and there are plenty of stories to tell about THAT - Keebler Elf dreams, kicking, clothing arguments, David Hasselhoff dreams, and presumed phone sex. Pee-peeing the bed is about the ONLY thing that hasn't happened yet!

Anyway, I tracked through the related videos on the sidebar of this one and discovered that this effed-up little VonTrapp family actually were a big hit throughout Europe in the 80s and 90s. How did I miss this? Without a doubt, Moses/Gandalf/Father Time as your back-up singer is a pretty big score!

So, clicking on the sidebar videos led me to a fabulous video of a song of theirs called "One More Freaking Dollar." Which I hereby declare my undying, unadulterated, unabashed, and unsober (Merlot, remember?) love for. And the lead singer on the video is a cutie. Except at that point of his life he was also JAILBAIT and that would make me a sinner of some sort.

Upon further clicking I discovered that he cut off the Sebastian Bach hairstyle and grew into a legal-sized man and was still a cutie. And a monk. Like, a monk in a monastery, not the TV detective. That FOR SURE makes me a sinner.