I’d say it’s what separates us, not from the beasts, but the bestial. Creating the future, renewing a learned past - these are reasons to strive. Writing for and with love, taking and framing an image, stretching new melodic skins onto old skeletons of song… it’s how we manage to fly. It’s how we stay you and me, not us and them.
Unlike Osk, who seemed to establish his own tactical task force wherever we lived, scooping up neighbourhood feline troublemakers as sidekicks (including the memorable ginger behemoth Watson, with whom he used to scope the street from the safety of the shed roof), Jelly has the intelligence gathering skills of a sponge cake.
Anyway, somewhere in between my 'and then you should've done this' and 'why didn't you say x and y, rather than z', and 'for the love of monkeys and the general public's eyesight, you didn't honestly wear that heinous shirt did you', something he was saying about the dating extravaganza we were picking to pieces finally penetrated my cloud of self-congratulatory cumulo-waffle.
"Most people don't talk about how dates are progressing as a tender process, do they?" he asked.
"What?"
"She said I was 'part way through the tender process' and that she was judging me on my submission. I'd like to think there was irony involved, and I think at the time I may have given an admittedly weak "haha, yesssss, quite". Looking back, I'd have to conclude, computer says no on the presence of Fabulon or other aids to achieving crisply pressed linen."
Anyway, somewhere in between my 'and then you should've done this' and 'why didn't you say x and y, rather than z', and 'for the love of monkeys and the general public's eyesight, you didn't honestly wear that heinous shirt did you', something he was saying about the dating extravaganza we were picking to pieces finally penetrated my cloud of self-congratulatory cumulo-waffle.
"Most people don't talk about how dates are progressing as a tender process, do they?" he asked.
"What?"
"She said I was 'part way through the tender process' and that she was judging me on my submission. I'd like to think there was irony involved, and I think at the time I may have given an admittedly weak "haha, yesssss, quite". Looking back, I'd have to conclude, computer says no on the presence of Fabulon or other aids to achieving crisply pressed linen."
Why is kissing so incredibly powerful? It can make or break a relationship; it marks the spot; sometimes (increasingly so) it is socially over-used. And most importantly...
Is it weird to kiss your shoes goodnight?
I am actually joking with that last one. Really. Really.
““Remember gentlemen, it’s not just France we are fighting for, it’s Champagne!””
— Sir Winston Churchill
I must immediately 'fess up to
something - I owe the lovely Sara L for the inspiration behind this
post. Because I was stalking her Pinterest board, and naturally, as she
has impeccable taste, she had fifteen pins with fabulous champagne
inspired bits and pieces on them - and after that, well, it was a done
deal.
I had to have a glass immediately simply to start the creative juices... uh - bubbling.
Champagne - where to begin really.
And yes I am talking about champagne. Yes, I know that Australia makes some magnificent sparkling numbers, and yes I sound like a snob, but they are not the same as a truly toasty, dry, built of the tiniest bubbles imaginable flute full of fizz that is a truly magnifique mouthful from La Belle France.
Le sigh.
Nor are all champagnes created equal for that matter. Just because something costs the equivalent of the GDP of 3 South American countries does not make it great. This is something that most people learn very quickly. Unless their name rhymes with Huffy. Or possibly Liddy. I'm not sure which he goes by these days. Obviously my attention span is taken up with far more worthy things.
Like shoes.
Anyway, back to the precious drop. When you think about it, it's not surprising that it was a bunch of boozy Benedictines who kicked off the whole champagne shebang. Even if it wasn't actually Dom Perignon who started the grape non-escape, he certainly helped his brethren along their initial path of enlightment. Although as champers was once called le vin du diable (the Devil's wine), one wonders how devout they actually were.
I must admit I personally send up a little prayer of thanksgiving whenever I take my first sip of Perrier-Jouët.
This is all very well you may say, but what does champagne actually stand for? One might argue that it's an alcoholic beverage; it doesn't actually have to stand for anything much at all, except getting one tipsy. But this isn't accurate. This is a drink that thinks. This is a drink with - well, soul.
Champagne is for fun. It is for life, for love, for laughter, for romance - sometimes it is even to toast the craptacular times as well.
Champagne is for breakfast.
Champagne is the skip in your heart's step, that happy little hum when putting on a slinky frock and knowing you are going to sit somewhere beautiful with someone who may or may not think you look fairly damn amazing. It doesn't much matter; you know yourself that you do. Because you are thinking champagne thoughts.
Champagne is, like the bubbles that tickle your tongue, totally frivolous and unnecessary - but an absolute delight.
I can cope with turning 41 in three weeks.
Just don't make me do it without a full glass in my hand. And an even fuller bottle close by.
