raise a glass

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This evening, The Fella and I ran an increasingly irritating series of wedding-related shopping expeditions, which you’ll be happy to hear I am not detailing here. I mention the errand only because the last desperate stop yielded an unexpected bargain.
At a local clearance house, a favorite of bluehairs and tourists alike, we found a pallet of the fancy burgundy glasses I’ve been coveting, marked down to about 20% of their usual price.
Seeing me coo over them, The Fella asked “Do you want them for the wedding?”
“No! I want them for me!“* I scooped up half a dozen for me and half a dozen for Mom. I celebrated the bargain by opening a modestly priced bottle of wine as soon as we got home and pouring out a glass to enjoy with my pizza. In this glass, the cheap merlot was a pleasure and a treat.
I’ve spoken before about the virtue of a good wine glass. It’s like alchemy, turning lead into gold. By improving its nose and giving it the right volume to breathe, a good glass makes a half-decent wine into a good wine. In a fine glass, a good wine positively sings.
*My actual wording may have been even less genteel, thus cementing our motto for 2009: “Fffft! Screw the wedding!”

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