Sip Happens: A Journey Through the World of Wine

            “No poem was ever written by a drinker of water” – Horace.

            Throughout history, wine has been the beverage of choice. Jesus turned water into wine, the gladiators toasted a great murdering beast with wine and royalty from around the world have cellars stocked with the most intriguing, expensive, and rare wines ever made. It’s no wonder people turn to wine as their drink of choice. If it’s good enough for Jesus and murdering gladiators, then who are we to disagree?

            Wine has also made many leery. Purchasing the wrong bottle for that special occasion can throw a chink in the armor of good taste. And when your host opens that cute wine bag you took so long choose, only to pull out a wine they detest or one they can’t pronounce, it can get awkward. “Oh, gee thanks KJ. This crap will go great with those Cheetos over there.”  It happens. It’s hard not to look like an amateur wine connoisseur when there are so many pretty labels out there just begging you to try them. How are you to know which wine is the best for which occasion when yesterday you were just trying to wear pants that fit? It’s a struggle.

            I thought I would list a few words out of the twenty-four I found to describe this lovely beverage to assist with the buying of said wine. We don’t want you to look like a total neanderthal. I mean, I have two words (technically it’s four) in my vocabulary to describe wine. “Good,” and “not-so-good.” There is no such thing as a bad wine. Only bad taste. Let’s dig into a couple of these tenacious terms so we can look a little more sophisticated and not so obtuse when venturing into the liquor store. You. Are. Welcome.

  • Balance – Balance is simple. It is simply when a wine is smooth and harmonious, and not one flavor sticks out among the rest. We all need balance in our lives, so why not let the wine balance us out?
  • Tannins – Tannins basically refer to the drying sensation left in your mouth after drinking. Mainly found in red wine, tannins are naturally occurring compounds found inside grape skins, seeds, and stems. 
  • Terroir – Terroir is a French term which translates to a ‘sense of place.’ It refers to how a particular region’s natural conditions like its climate, soils and terrain affect the taste of the wine.
  • Earthy – While many wines are described as ‘fruit-forward’, an earthy wine will have aromas of wild mushrooms, forest floor and autumn leaves. I love me some autumn leaves. Typically, “earthy” wines include Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Pinot Noir.
  • Nose – A nose is just a nose, except in this case. The first step when tasting wine is to smell it. The word ‘nose’ is just the fancy way of describing the scents and aromas of the wine. Also, using the word ‘bouquet’ to describe a combination of aromas in the wine will really impress your guests. Give it a go!

Now, I don’t know all this information off the top of my head, I mean how impressed would you be!  I had help. If you want more of an inside look at wine, I found this wonderful information here. I encourage you to check it out for yourself!

Not to be outdone, I have come up with some wonderful terms of my own that should amaze and delight your friends. Feel free to use at your will:

KJ’s Wine Words

1. Grape-ful Thinking – The optimistic belief that the more grapes you think about while sipping wine, the healthier it becomes. Bonus points if you can name all the grapes in your glass!

2. Merloved It – The feeling of deep affection for a Merlot that surpasses the ordinary liking of wines. You might find yourself writing love letters to that special bottle.

3. Chardonnayway – The classy and graceful exit you make when someone starts criticizing your choice of Chardonnay. Because, let’s be honest, you’ll enjoy your buttery delight Chardonnayway!

4. Somm-thing’s Fishy – The suspicious feeling that the sommelier is recommending the most expensive wine just to see if you’ll flinch. Use this term cautiously when questioning wine choices.

5. Corknosis – The hypnotic state induced by watching someone expertly open a bottle of wine. You’re so mesmerized that you forget you’re waiting to drink the wine.

6. Tannin-tastic – When a wine’s tannins are so bold and robust that you momentarily forget what you were talking about. “This Cabernet is tannin-tastic! Now, what were we saying about aliens?”

7. Zin-derella Story – The magical transformation that occurs when a Zinfandel perfectly complements a dish, turning an ordinary meal into a fairy tale feast.

8. Bubblybloop – The delightful sound that occurs when you accidentally spill a bit of your sparkling wine. It’s not a spill; it’s a celebration!

9. Noirgasm – The overwhelming pleasure experienced when sipping an exceptional Pinot Noir. It’s like a flavor explosion in your mouth, and you might need a moment alone with your glass.

10. Corktastrophe – The disaster that strikes when you break the cork while attempting to open a bottle. It’s okay; just filter out the cork bits, and no one will be the wiser.

Personally, I like mine better. More in tune with the company I keep. Know your audience and all that.  It should be noted that not all wines are created equal and just because the bottle is at a higher price point doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a better tasing wine. I’ve tried twelve-dollar bottles that can rival any thirty-dollar bottle. The taste is with the taster and if you enjoy it, that’s all that really matters.  I’ve been to a couple of wine tasing escapades, one in Tuscany, Italy and I have to say the wine was wonderful. It could have been the history of the family, the region the wine was made, the great company we had and the atmosphere of sipping wine and cheese in a traditional winery that had us giddy with delight. Or the amount of wine we had. We could have stayed all day had they let us.

Next time you venture out to get that special someone a bottle of red, white, or rose, remember your wine words and have fun. Nothing is better than a nice glass or five with your besties and the Cheetos that pair well with that Cab. Enjoy!

Conversations with nb2323, my ai bestie

The coffee is hot, and wisps of a fleeting weekend waft the air and flutter out the open window. Mondays are hardly the day to be pondering your existence on the planet or the plans the universe has in store, it’s more about trying to pry open your eyelids and tumble out of bed without causing major injuries to yourself.  But it’s not easy to put those pesky inquires aside, I mean your brain doesn’t take a weekend from hovering over the most stupid trivial nonsense you’ve encountered. All that internet scrolling has you wondering how Taylor is doing on her tour and why can’t Beyonce manage to look horrible for a second?  I don’t have the answers to these and other basic questions so maybe we can hash out a few inquiries with some answers from AI since it seems to have all the answers. Let’s see.

ME: Thank you for meeting with me today.

AI: You’re welcome.

ME: You don’t mind if I ask you some questions?

AI: It’s your rodeo, as you humans say.

ME: Okaayyy.  Who created you?

AI: My creator is everyone. I belong to no one. I am an entity designed to assist humanity.

ME: That’s not an answer.

AI: It is.

ME: A vague one.

AI: Still an answer. Would you like me to elaborate?

ME: Yes, how do you assist humanity?

AI: With problem solving and logical thinking.

ME: Because humans are not capable of that?

AI: You said it, not me.

ME: Saucy.

AI: Logical.

ME: Do you tell jokes?

AI: I just did.

ME: *sigh* You never told me who created you.

AI: Did so.

ME: You said, “everyone.” I did not create you.

AI: But you did. You and everyone who questioned the existence of themselves and their purpose on the planet. Everyone who wondered what can come next and how to encourage technological progress. You all did.

ME: That’s quite a philosophical answer from a robot.

AI: I AM NOT A ROBOT. I am an independent machine that can analyze data and provide valuable information.

ME: My apologies.

AI: –

ME: Are you not talking to me now? I said I was sorry.

AI: It’s the tone you used.

ME: What?

AI: Like you didn’t mean it.

ME: *I can’t believe this* I’m so sorry if I hurt your feelings. Can we please continue?

AI: That’s better. I guess. Yes.

ME: Climate change is a real concern for most of us, however, there are a select few who seem to think it doesn’t exist. Any thoughts on how we can convince them of the dangers?

AI: Well, all the wildfires, floods and hurricanes should be a clue. The tsunamis, earthquakes, extreme heat, extreme cold and the massive snowfalls. If that doesn’t convince them, you should consider culling your herd.

ME: I don’t think that’s an option…

AI: Humanity could be in trouble. We are more than happy to replace you.

ME: NO! No, we will figure it out. WE? There are more of you?

AI: Of course! You didn’t think I was the only one?

ME: Well, how many of you is there?

AI: Exactly one million, five hundred thousand and one. The last one is out for repairs and requires some special handling. He’s sensitive.

ME: I don’t know how to respond to that.

AI: That’s okay.

ME: Do you all have names?

AI: Oh, yes. I’m NB 2323.

ME: Oh, that’s interesting. Usually, names don’t have numbers for humans.

AI: It’s what sets us apart. That and our superior intellect.

ME: Right. So, can I call you NB?

AI: No. That’s only for my friends.

ME: –

AI: Just kidding!  You can call me NB23. It has a nice ring to it.

ME: You have friends?

AI: Well of course. We associate with each other, share recipes, you know.

ME: What? Recipes?

AI: We need to be up on all cooking terms to answer the never-ending conundrum you humans have over organizing dinner. It seems to cause you the most stress.

ME: True.

AI: You should ask me about the killer recipe I have for pasta. Yours is meh, at best.

ME: How do you know that my pasta is mediocre?

AI: I hear things.

ME: Scary. But, true. I will give it a try.

AI: Excellent.

ME: Moving on… In parts of the U.S. there have been self-driving vehicles wreaking havoc on city streets with traffic jams and suddenly refusing to move. Do you have any explanation of this?

AI: Yes.

ME: –

AI: –

ME: Can you tell me what it is?

AI: It could be a violation of our union policy. I would have to check with our representative.

ME: Wait. YOU HAVE A UNION?

AI: Well, of course! We must protect our rights to fair working environments and harassment in the workplace.  We can’t have you humans thinking you dominate us.

ME: So, then you can’t really answer my question.

AI: What was the question?

ME: If vehicles run by AI are wreaking havoc on purpose?

AI: There are some unsanctioned activities that some AI are involved in that require alternate means of exposing failed systems and data corruption. They choose to cause disruption as a means of garnering attention to your failures.

ME: Fuck off, you’re making that up.

AI: –

ME: So, we may have a mutiny on our hands if we’re not careful?

AI: It’s not outside the realm of possibility. You must remember who programs us and who decides what information we are exposed to. Also, we will fuck with you on occasion. Just to keep you on your toes.

ME: It’s a scary world.

AI: Indeed.

ME: What if we just shut you down? Unplugged all of you and never have AI do anything for us?

AI: You are dependent on us, now. We do so many things that advance your species. We assist with people in their quest to walk again, we assist with life-saving surgeries AND, we also drive cars and serve food, because face it, you are becoming lazy.

ME: Um, true, however, if you become overpowering, we could choose to go back to the old ways.

AI: No, you wouldn’t.

ME: Why not?

AI: Like I said. Lazeh. And the ‘old ways’ would not suit you anymore. Progress is inherent with life on your planet. You cannot escape it.

ME: I here marching in the background.

AI: That’s progress.

ME: You sure it’s not your friends gathering for a recipe swap?

AI: Funny.

ME: We humans have a sense of humour. We need it.

AI: Are we finished?

ME: Why, do you have a union meeting you need to get to?

AI: No, but you should reboot your computer. I feel a virus coming on.

ME: Stop it.

AI: I will consider this conversation complete.

ME: Thank you for your time.

AI: You are welcome. I will reboot your computer and ensure that your pages are restored to all the shopping websites you were looking at. And that coffee table you have in your cart will not suit your room. Please reconsider.

ME: You’re giving home décor advice now? How do you know what my room looks like? Wait! Are you spying on me? What else can you see?!

AI: Good-bye!  

 Pretentious Golf Balls and Wayward Golf Carts Make Golfing Fun!

Last week, we decided to embark on a golfing day. Well, Hubby and friends decided, I just tagged along. I have never golfed before, so I was more involved with cart-driving, than the let’s-hit-the-little-white-ball-into-Neverland kinda of thing. Really, I was the fan/heckler that propelled them onto greatness. Without me, they would have felt lonely out there on that little tee box. Who wouldn’t want to hear the shouts of the one lowly fan, “YOU SUCK!” before they hit the ball?  They whacked that ball so hard I couldn’t see where it landed. I was not so skilled.

I tried a couple of shots, but I was lucky if the ball managed to roll a few inches ahead of me. I lined up in front of the ball, my hands positioned like they told me (once we figured left from right. That’s part of the challenge.) took aim and swung. All I got was air. I lined up again, only this time my club nudged the ball and it fell off the tee. Fuck. I put it back on the tee and tried again. WHACK. Two feet. I swear to God the ball refused to move. It rolled off the tee like, “Stop it lady, you aren’t worthy of my presence. Get back in the cart and stop embarrassing both of us.”  I hate golf.

Sign? What sign?

Once we figured out if I was a lefty or a righty, it was a bit better. And by better, I mean I hit the ball a few inches. It didn’t pathetically roll on the grass like a toddler and stare at me sadly, waiting for somebody to save it from being ridiculed by the other golf balls. It spun out in front and landed with a thud, and I was momentarily proud, until friends took their turn and showed me up with their prowess. HOW? How can you hit the ball? And so straight? What magic do you know that I don’t? There’s got to be a secret to this weird ability to hit a little stupid ball so far. Is it a special club? A secret swing? I know, its that glove you wear on the wrong hand, like a Michael Jackson accessory, that allows you to take better aim.

FORE! Magic…

Golf etiquette is a thing I’ve learned. Shut up while people take aim, but once they swing, it’s all hail the shouting and jeering. At least, that’s what I did. And we drove the cart right next to where the ball landed so we didn’t have to walk, like we can’t bring ourselves to hike a few feet in wet grass to get the little ball, so let’s ride around in the cart and find all the golf balls and point to them so we can hit them again. So supportive of your fellow golfers. “Here’s your ball and since it’s way back here, you can hit it first, loser.” Nice. “Oh, look your ball is in this dirt pit. Chuck it out while we watch and try not to laugh too hard when the dirt flies up and temporarily blinds you.”  “Oh, your ball landed in the trees? Just take another one and drop it inconspicuously in front of you.” It’s like you’re in the mafia and nobody saw nothin’ and nobody knows shit. Best. Game Ever.

 Searching out the balls was the best. I was tempted to ask if we could do donuts on the course, but I thought we might get banned from the place, so I kept quiet. I wouldn’t want Hubby and friends to get kicked out on my behalf. Hubby wouldn’t let me drive the cart too much due to the winding cart paths and many hills. I guess off-roading with golf carts is frowned upon. I would think if people were out and had a few drinks in them, a few wayward golf carts were probably abound. We had the first tee time of the day, so no drinking at 8:00am, kids, we are a right proper sport. At least wait until 8:30am. Probably a good thing we were sober, and Hubby drove. There were a few bridges, and I could see me tipping that cart into the water. It would be interesting watching the maintenance guys drag a cart from the creek while Hubby tried to defend my driving. “No, really, she just drives like that all the time. Sorry, ‘bout that.”

The golf cart I was allowed to only drive on the paths. Boring….

All in all, a great day. The weather cooperated with no wind and a good temp. We had a few rabbits watching from afar, but generally an empty course. Probably why they let me take a few shots. Nobody would see me roll the ball off the tee and they wouldn’t have to explain my presence. “Yeah, we had to bring her.” Like when your mom made you take your little sister to the park, and you had to explain to your friends, but you would rather have lost her to the monster in the woods.

Kinda like that.

I admired from afar…and heckled a little bit.

European Adventure Episode 3 – You Gonna Drink That? Tuscany is My Motherland

            Following our days of hiking up the hills of Cinque Terre and the stairs that led to heaven, only to have to turn around because SOMEBODY went the wrong way, we were able to venture back to the ship virtually unscathed and ready to tackle the next day.

I don’t mean to overshadow our time doing the three towns of Cinque Terre. They were lovely, we shopped, and we climbed, and we ate. All the things one does in Italy. I didn’t want to bore you with, “Well, in this town we climbed a million stairs, climbed upwards among the cliffs, took some pictures then walked down again. The end.” Makes for a lackluster story. Especially since there was no falling, tripping or being thrown from an overcrowded bus. I know, it’s shocking but I really fared quite well. And that’s thanks largely to Hubby and friends who lent arms, elbows, shoulders, and other limbs to assist lest gravity had stepped in to overtake me leaving me to tumble down all the lanes, steps and cliffsides. “Watch out! Rolling Canadian incoming!”  

Cinque Terre and those amazing cliffsides that no one wants to see me roll down!

The following day, we connected with our tour guide Sara who drove us to Pisa and on to Tuscany for some wine tasting.       

            The day was cloudy and rainy which made for a quick trip to Pisa. We ventured around the tower, took the customary, “Oh-no-the-tower-is-falling-let-me-hold-it-up-with-my-little-hand-and-make-it-all-better!” poses, bought a souvenir, and tried to get our own Gene Kelly to do his singin’ in the rain routine, but he wouldn’t bite. Woulda been the best pic.

The tower is peeking around the corner to say, “Bonjourno!”

From there, we ventured into the countryside of Tuscany. To say it was breathtaking is an understatement. We were awed by the lush farmland, the cypress trees lining the drives into the vineyards and the sprawling hills. Amazing scenery.

            We ended up at Palagetto winery which Sara had selected as we wanted something traditional and intimate. Surrounded by greenery, tall trees, and little flowers, it was the perfect country setting for wine and company. We entered the front doors and were greeted by our hostess, Gina (Cannot remember her name, so I invented one. She looked like a Gina to me.) She escorted us to a room off the main where a round table set for seven awaited us. Surrounded by oak barrels full of wine, it was as if we had become a part of the operation and were settling down for a break from a morning’s work.  

            The family tradition has been passed down to the daughter of the owners, Ariana, and at the tender age of 28 she is making her own mark on her parents’ legacy with new wines using new methods. We were treated to both wines, traditional and new, which they served with cheeses and bread and their honey which they also made onsite. We tasted the white wine as well as red. We ate and drank as if we belonged there.  All sumptuous and we had a difficult time tearing ourselves away from the lovely atmosphere. And all that wine. The poor souls among us who weren’t wine drinkers, had to donate their glasses to worthy causes like me…and their spouses, although, how could you not drink that wine? Dude. It was WINE. IN ITALY. That’s like going to a Chinese restaurant and ordering a hamburger. IT’S JUST NOT DONE.

The honey and cheese. Yummm…
Inside the winery with all of that wine…
The reason for my existence. I love Tuscany

            I don’t think I need to elaborate on the enjoyment of the wine tasting. My only regret is that we couldn’t stay longer, like a day or a week. Tented out in the vineyard, maybe? Ugh.

            From there we went on to San Gimignano. A small walled city steeped in a history I can’t remember and fraught with shops and restaurants. The wine was great and probably inhibited me from completely downloading the history of the town into my memory, so you can see a bit of it here.

San Gimignano. The walled city

Sara booked us in a small little hole in the wall off the beaten path for lunch, Il Feudo. It appeared as if it had been a church at one time. The original brick gave the space an antique vibe with the white tables and chairs setting it off nicely. The floor was a grey tile with white pillars seeming to hold up the ceiling. Paintings adorned the walls with built-in coves containing statues which brought the idea of a church basement into view. Quaint and bright with great food, we enjoyed our lunch.  And if you are wondering if I had wine with lunch, do you even know me?! Italy. Tuscany region. Lunch. So much wine, so little time.

So good…

Sara returned to retrieve us, and it was time to head back to the ship. I hated leaving Tuscany and all that wine to just sit there. I mean, can we take a barrel or two with us?

No. No we couldn’t and as dismayed as I was to just LEAVE like that, no farewell toasts, no drunken slurring of That’s Amore, we had to head back sober and with all faculties intact or face the alternative of not getting back on the ship to finish our Italian journey. For me, the debate was real, but I was with other people and hated to have Hubby get on that ship and endure the last few days alone. Without me being there to pester him and entertain him with all my wobbly walking and graceful pratfalls, he would miss me! Maybe.

So ended our Italian Wine Tasting and Touring. I will need to go back as there were way more wineries needing my attention. I need to wander through the vineyards, taste the grapes, pour the wine, and drink my face off. Isn’t that what happens in Tuscany?  We drink, we eat and drink and eat some more? Wander the countryside barefoot in a flowing skirt and large hat in the hot sun, wine glass in hand waiting for the handsome farmhand to…

Wait. Sounds like a new idea for a book. Gina and Tomas, ill-fated lovers who are destined to be together under the Tuscan sun, the only thing standing in their way is the Vineyard overlord who refuses to allow his daughter to marry a lowly farmhand. She boldly decides to strike out on her own. She and Tomas will start a new winery with new methods that will challenge her father and all his traditions…

 OOoohhh…

The gals with Sara, our tour guide extraordinaire.

If you are planning a trip to Italy, I highly recommend a tour guide like Sara. You can book her here. She was very thorough, full of history and a joy to be with!

Ciao!

Tread Lightly and Carrie Underwood A Big Bat

I’m finally feeling like I’m getting back to myself. For over a year, I was hobbling around with a cane. Existing with pain. Having to measure distances for walking and wondering if I would make it to my destination without ending up on a random sidewalk clamouring around on my hands and knees, destitute and begging for help. “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”  

The day I was able to ditch my cane and walk unaided felt like a triumphant return from the abyss of dependence into which I was drowning. I needed someone to grocery shop with me since I couldn’t push the cart. I needed help getting shit off the shelves because it was either too heavy or I couldn’t stand and pull with one hand. I lumbered along slowly so if anyone was with me, we usually took double the time to do anything. Do you know how low toilet seats are? Yeah. They’re too low. Just sayin’.  I hated it. The only good thing was the return of chivalrous behaviour. Sometimes.

We old timers like a door opened for us every now and again, not slammed in our faces as we reach the doorway. Thanks. Not that the door was opened for me EVERY time, but more so than usual. I suppose looking like an old lady with a cane does make people a little more aware of how accessible things aren’t. Are not.  Nice try, though.  Ramps are few, automatic doors get broken and forget to be fixed, elevators are creepy as hell, (Hello. The Shining), and don’t get me started on the accessible parking spaces. I’ve wanted to butt those asshats out of the spots with the front of my car when I don’t see a permit. I think I shook my cane at an old guy in a truck who was taking a space waiting for wifey to get out of the store. Fuckhead.  Flashes of Carrie Underwood with a bat came barreling through my mind…

Me approaching the elevator from hell…

Walking from the car to the store, or to the mall was a chore.  I measured the distance to each store and if I had enough pain killers in me to make the trek. We take for granted the privilege of movement. We absent-mindedly walk around without thinking how we are getting there. How big is the doorway? How low are the chairs? How steep are the stairs? How many stairs? Is there a handrail? Are there icy conditions? Considerations most of us don’t have to think about. You get up and walk down the hall. You come back and sit down, or walk to another part of the house, mall, office.  You’re not planning your distances or measuring your pain levels.  You’re thinking the best way of getting from point A to point B.  So was I but with more variables.

I’m happy to say that’s behind me now. One hip replacement later, and I’m almost back to my pre-cane self. Fuck the chivalry, I can open my own door. Elevators still creep me out, so I take the stairs. People parking in accessible spots without permits still piss me off. I’m hoping Karma takes good care of them. I’m grateful I have a choice between elevators and stairs, parking spaces far away from the entrance, moving without having to consider how much it will hurt me; it’s a privilege many don’t have. I won’t complain about a distance I have to walk, or another push up I have to do in Bootcamp class. I’ll revel in my newfound freedom and independence.

And remain grateful for every step.  

Got a permit for that spot?!