I have been so tired since we got back from California, that I have not had the energy to do much of anything (except drink wine). So last night, instead of writing for this blog, I decided to look for an earlier post to re-blog instead. This was from a couple of years ago, but it could have easily been from any week we have lived in our house….
A few days ago, I went down into the basement, as I do most nights, to contemplate that night’s bottle of wine. I moseyed on over to where I store my white Burgundies (chardonnay) since I was making a seafood risotto that night. As I was contemplating one of the greater ‘Wine Guy’ questions (‘Meursault
or Montrachet?’), I heard a disturbing drip from around the corner. Initially, I ignored it. Yes, we live in a 120+ year-old house. Yes, less than six months ago, I was shin deep in water (in the same area of the basement where I now stood) thanks to the torrential rains before and during Hurricane Irene. Yes, it was awful. Yes, my wife was on call and not home those nights, and yes, I was in the basement with a bucket and a prayer, trying to save my wine (not to mention the rest of the…
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the drunken cyclist 