Daily Wine and…Rant - Rated M

Archive for the ‘complaints’ Category


September 25, 2011

Do you know when you’re the elephant in the room?

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I live in a multi-generational home in a well-established middle income neighborhood. It’s quiet and everyone respects everyone else’s space. No McMansions here. People in this neighborhood work hard–trades, service industry, professional services. No Wall Street brokers on my street. Therefore the homes are modest–one-level ranches on half-acre lots. And only one home is anal retentively maintained. Everyone else is tired…:)

But when the woman next door died a couple years ago the new guy who bought her property promptly tore her home down. Which is understandable–it was pretty run down and not up to code on a couple of items. But the lot her home was on is a small peninsula of property, a corner lot. This guy got variances for everything apparently– height, foundation footprint. In the scope of the rest of the neighborhood, this thing is the elephant in the room. And it sits on this tiny corner lot right in the middle of everything. I’ve heard comments from the UPS guy, the mail lady, and other residents in the area and they all can be summarized this way: “Who would build that?” Good question.

What do we say about guys who drive Hummers? Does building a massive house when all around you are small count?

Can you not see how obnoxious this thing is?

And after the two stupid guys that started the pneumatic nail gun on the roof this morning at 7:20–it’s SUNDAY, a-hole!–now I’m really raw. The elephant in the room….

I found this new apellation:

Barenjager honey liqueur from Germany that is smooth, sweet, and strong. Best when chilled. Unfortunately, it’s a little too early to imbibe, but I will later.


May 10, 2010

Make Your Own Music

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One of my fondest memories of my childhood was listening to my father as he made his way around his daily tasks about the house …. whistling. He was a very good whistler. Who whistles anymore? I don’t. And if I sat at my desk and whistled while I worked, as the 7 dwarves recommend, I’d be quickly packed up and asked to get the flock out. Just pucker up and BLOW. Do we teach kids to make this simplest of sounds anymore? But I guess we don’t have to. We no longer have the need to make our own music. Just stuff a couple earbuds in those ears and we’re good to go. We listen to digital sounds, many of them totally electronically created— not a real guitar or trumpet or violin or drum among them. Never thought I’d crave the scratches and crackle an old turntable could spin out into the air.

Yesterday I ran into an old friend. She reported that her husband had taken up the lost art of yodeling. Yodel-ay-hee-hoo…Now the last time I heard anything close to yodeling it was the last time I suffered through the Sound of Music. And Jewel–she yodels, but apparently keeps it to herself because no one knows what that sound coming out of her throat is anymore and they ‘d much prefer to pay her to just continue crowing out those saccharine little love tunes for her rodeo husband. And on, and on, and on.

While I’m on the topic of bodily music, what ever happened to Bobby McFerrin who literally turned his body into an instrument thumping and bleating a capella? Talk about body sounds.

My father is not nearly as free with his whistling talents as he once was. He could trill with the best of them. Long live our own music-making ingenuity (Daily wine: Elderun, Elderberry Honey wine, kosher and sulfite free. I’m still on the honey-wine kick):

KickASS whistling:

Crazy yodeling:

complaints,current events,mead,rant

May 6, 2010

Apple Wine

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A good woman can cure all.

No… a bad woman can cure all.

I had to take the long way home from work tonight. Not my choice and only because of commuter traffic. I have a little bit of an anger issue and I’ll admit it…it’s not pretty. So when the cops had blocked off the entrance to Route 9 out of Berlin, that was the end of it….

Somehwere along the way I grew a hankering for some mead. The kid at the wine store didn’t know what that was when I stopped. Fed my frustration even more. For the dude at the wine store:

Mead: honey wine. It’s an ancient brew. It was the drink of the Vikings, those angry pillagers which might be why I suddenly wanted a big belt of some. Yo, you should know what it is for godsakes or go work at the gas station.

So what could possibly give me a tiny bit of relief from my mead craving (if not a good/bad woman)?

Some apple wine with honey brewed by the local apple orchard folk–also serendipitously along my wayward way home tonight. MMMMM. I’ve run bikers off the road, cussed out some good ol boy from Vermont who couldn’t tell green from red — and he was pissed at ME, the gall–visited my dad at the rehab place and now I’ve flopped on my bed with my mega Viking stein of apple/honey wine (not real mead) with my cat and a cool breeze coming through the screens.

Can’t bring myself to watch the news: that effing oil debacle and of course some of those robber barons only care how this will impact their chances for future drilling…Wow. Spend a few billion figuring out a REAL way to shut your fucking oil hole and maybe you can stick an augur back in Mother Earth, man!

a nice bottle of bishops orchards honey peach melba wine

Not as viscous or honey driven as mead, but a great alternative for frustrated Vikings.