I thought it existed only in my nightmares.
However, it’s real. Paired with Havarti. I feel like Aldi has given up at this point. Yes, this is the first white zinfandel, but I’ve had havarti at least once already.
I spent the afternoon with my work friends (and they are amazing) and the evening with my mom. I made us weird Keurig drinks with hot chocolate, Baileys, and Woodford. We watched a Hallmark movie, and it was good.
My dad’s drink was cabernet. It’s not my favorite, but I’ve been trying to develop at taste for it.
My dad’s cancer started as head and neck cancer, and there were maybe a few alarm bells that we should have pursued, but one I will never forgive myself for. My dad, with his beautiful Gibson Hummingbird, sang Bad, Bad Leroy Brown. And I thought his voice was a bit raspy. Thought he didn’t sound just quite right. But he would keep me up at night when he visited, with the cabernet and the Hummingbird, and I would listen, trying to harmonize, even though I knew I couldn’t hear the right notes. I miss those nights with my dad, the nights I wanted to go to bed so desperately but also wanted to stay up late with him, hear his interpretation of Jefferson Airplane’s Good Shepherd. I told him so many times that Jorma was practically a neighbor. Fur Peace Ranch, just up up the road. But we never made it there, together.
One for Paul
One for Silas
Oh good shepherd, feed my sheep