Ode in a wineshop, translation courtesy of Google. Banal in context but worth noting - especially with the brush of your camera, Rob.
"Keep these treasures carefully, where the sighs of the wind and the embraces of the sun paint dreams on each bunch of grapes.
Each sip is a poem of passion and flavor, an ode to Mediterranean pleasure that awakens on your palate.
Let's toast to the beauty of this land, to the passion that drives us and to the joy of sharing this place with you."
Thank you, Chris; marketing bs at its sweetest and, probably, justification for a good time.
Were it not for a dislike of drinking alone once a day (I can only handle lunch - eating later brings on acid reflux and the threat of self-suffocation in my sleep - what irony that would be), I would most enjoy sitting on the verandah at around half-past eleven on a sunny morn, nursing a soothing G&T with a little fried goat’s cheese enhancing a Jacob’s cracker or two. As things stand, even a glass of wine now hits my head almost directly, and driving the car would be quite irresponsible. How I miss both wife and youthfulness. Oh well, it was a wonderful life, and nothing can take away what was.
Regarding the snaps: without a cellphone, hardly any new pics would exist on my hard drive. I keep readying both self, Nikon, lens and battery for some photography “tomorrow” but, come the dawning, it all seems like way too much trouble…
A gifted Q with 27mm might throw the psychological switch, but I wouldn’t bet on it. I suppose that then, I just be nervous about getting mugged again. ;-)
