This is me, at the Knackered Mother’s Wine Club tasting at Camp Bestival last Saturday. We had a brilliant crowd, including a gorgeous lady who’d got married that day at Camp Bestival’s inflatable church (not making this up) and another on her hen night.
‘Where’s your wee wine gone?’ asked Eldest Boy earlier today. He was referring to the wine I’ve just made. As a wine buyer I spent much of my time in cold cellars tasting wine samples from tanks but until now, I’d never made my own wine from start to finish.
L-R: Hugh, Michel Roux Jr (chair) & Jancis Last night, a friend and I went to a brilliant event in London that brought together two of the world’s best wine writers, Jancis Robinson and Hugh Johnson.
You can’t buy happiness but you can buy wine and that’s kind of the same thing, or so the saying goes.
The last time we picked a winner on the blog, my mother wasn’t available to do the honours. She was on her way to the cinema ‘2 c When I wake up’.
Well, that was fun. My Camp Bestival highlights included the wine tasting I did for 50 fellow knackered mothers on Saturday evening;
I planned to do a KMWC wine surgery film tonight but, after Vegas, my eyes are like piss holes in the snow (to coin one of my mother’s favourite sayings).
Sequins, check. I’m off to Vegas. For work. For four days. I know, I’m extremely lucky. I’ll have time to sit by a pool, do a spot of shopping, have grown up dinners and see a show (not Britney though, I checked).
Last weekend, Youngest Girl was 5 years old. She had a little party at home with her friends from school, involving a game of Pass the Parcel, Musical Statues and an early Easter Egg Hunt in the garden.
