Walnut Wine

Never have I felt more like Ma Larkin in the Darling Buds of May. It might well be the baby belly or the belly aching laugh that I had tonight but as I poured some 2010 Walnut Wine into the glasses of my mother-in-law and her eighty year old cousin, the priest, I thought, how did this day come to this?
Ignoring the hungry farmer holding the baby and the five year old with the cold, I walked out the door to go next door to my mother-in-law’s. Also in my wake were the purveyors of said wine speaking to their daughter via Skype in my sitting room. My dreams of being an international translator in tact, I carried knowledge of how to harvest such wine from our French friends and producers to my thirsty octogenarians. Whether it was the luxurious sherry like digestif (aperitif in Brittany) or the awe at a conversation carried via computer, I left my elderly companions just a little giddy. Back in my sitting room, I greeted my tickled French friends with a resounding thumbs on their vin du pays. While there are days that I long for a dull moment, as it turns out, they never come up.

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