It’s been a week of highs and lows. Highs include making cocktails on live radio and watching a football game at Anfield –
Find Wine!
I’ve been tasting a lot of wine this week, about 100 a day, at the International Wine Challenge in London. Yesterday, an old friend and fellow wine judge reminded me of the time we tasted a flight (the fancy name for a line up of wines) of Cabernet Sauvignons from Chile together, almost twenty years ago, at the same competition.
So, Mother’s Day on Sunday. Already looking forward to my cup of tea in bed, cards and a few hastily freshly picked daffodils from the garden.
The proofs for my FORTHCOMING BOOK arrived last week (sorry, didn’t mean to shout), a final chance for me to read it through and make sure everything is as it should be.
I posted about wine speak a while ago, specifically about how much of it sounds too flowery, some of it just downright ridiculous.
My sister and I found my mother’s latest boyfriend on the internet. Background: post first marriage, she’s not been a great picker.
I don’t get big festivals. There was a massive festival on the Isle of Wight at the weekend and a friend came back complaining of feeling old.
