Some of us, like me, constantly need an alarm clock. Not the one that you set up yourself to wake you up in the morning, but the one that simply goes off unannounced in your life, an event that makes you wake up and re-think things. Yesterday, I went rollerblading. I have never done that before. My wake-up call was a popping in my wrist during an accidental landing. A visit to the emergency room and a small surgery later, I am learning to type with just my left hand. What was this most recent wake-up call for? I’m trying to figure it right now with a glass of wine.
I hate pain killers. Let me know if you would like me to send you my prescriptions. I have something like six of them, which were never filled. No, I’m not serious; I think that would be illegal. But I can legally share with you my other medication, which beats all pain killers by 100%. It's wine, of course, and occasionally tequila or mescal. I just open a bottle of 1999 Bressan Pignol from Friuli, Italy. It took a lot strength and figuring out to manage to pull the cork out with just one hand, but I managed. Tonight I felt like red wine, even when it was almost 100 degrees outside. I have a hypothesis that the reason that people drink hot tea in high heat weather because it raises the body temperature so you don't feel the difference. Bressan is an experimental, but traditional, winery making wine that is elegant and powerful. Exactly what I need tonight: knock me out elegantly. Pignolo is a grape that can be hard to find, but once you have it and make wine from it the right way it's a treat. And I deserve a treat, with cooked fruit, plum, raisins, silky texture, balsamic-like sweetness and acidity.
I’m still wondering what the reason was for my wrist fracture. Maybe I should not have gone rollerblading, but either way, I think I should slow down and look ahead rather than at my feet. I think I just made up a metaphorical reason for my accident, but that doesn’t make it any less true. And now my wine is gone; time for another bottle of medicine.
Cheers, Vilma
