All the wine I cannot drink. And the cocktails. That’s what I’m thinking about these days.
I read an article this morning about William-Chris Vineyards in Fredericksburg as I sipped my one cup of coffee. I longingly recalled how enjoyable it was to be there with friends six weeks ago, sipping a glass of Mourvèdre on their patio under a shady oak. My favorite red, I will miss it.
I thought about Veuve Cliquot champagne. Will I ever be able to enjoy that again? And the delicious old-style cocktails I have developed (without bragging) a certain amount of expertise crafting for our friends… What about them?
I know I sound like I have a drinking problem. I don’t. It’s the idea of not drinking I have a problem with. LOL.
I guess I’ve forgotten how to carry on socially without a nice glass of wine or a scrumptious cocktail. I’m uncertain of how to wrap up my day when it’s 5:00 pm (and it’s always five o’clock somewhere), and I’m used to taking a spirited drink out on the patio.
When I was 40 my sweet therapist suggested I quit drinking for eight weeks. I was on the verge of a breakthrough, and she was certain this would prove beneficial. Of course I agreed, not realizing those weeks included the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays.
It was harder than I’d imagined: no bubble-bath with a glass of wine and a bowl of popcorn after a hard day’s work. The idea of parties was excruciating, I turned down almost all invitations except with very close friends. And the day before Christmas Eve, I found myself standing in the wine aisle of the supermarket staring balefully at all of the bottles, searching out my favorites. I didn’t realize I was crying until some sweet old lady asked me, lightly touching my elbow, “Sweetie, are you okay?”
I was okay. I worked through what needed it, and in the end, I changed where I worked. I moved into a new cottage. And I found a wonderful new group of women friends.
I know I’ll be okay again, wine or no wine. I’m sure my lovely cardiologist, and I, will iron out all the wrinkles and get me feeling in tip-top shape soon. I can concentrate now. I’m reading and writing again, and I’ve watched some fantastic series on Netflix: Last Tango in Halifax, Russian Doll, and Longmire were faves.
I miss having a second cup of coffee, but “a cuppa” good English breakfast tea is delightful. And all of the wines… Well, dang! I miss them, but I’m sure they’ll be even more delicious when I’m able to savor them once again!