Say Farewell to the Noise, Kids

That party with the noise? It’s over.

And the noise? Nothin’ to worry about. Bit of music, bit of talk, bit of car doors slamming about 2am.

But the wine? That was wonderful. Sometimes you get the better end of the deal. This was one of those times.

The Countdown

It’s almost 9pm Friday local time. Twelve hours ago I drove out to work. My neighbour was talking to the driver of a truck that had just pulled up outside his house. In the truck? The noise. It was the local juke-box and karaoke hire.

I thanked the neighbour for the wine.

“Tell your mate he’s got great taste in reds,” I said.

“I’ll tell him,”

“And have a great day setting up.”

“Thanks. Have a good one.”

The kids played around on the karaoke a bit this afternoon. Twenty four hours and it’s on in earnest. And me? I’ll be sitting somewhere quiet, perhaps down near the lake, drinking some very nice red.

“Have a good one.”

Beaujolais

We lived in England for a few years, living in the city of Exeter. 1985-89. What a great time. The Devon countryside is one of the world’s delights, especially the village of Kenn where you will find a pub called The Ley Arms. Built in 1190 AD, it was a popular haunt for us.

Our son was still a youngster so we preferred lunch there, gently soaking up the centuries until we had to pick him up from school. It quickly became our favourite wedding anniversary lunch spot.

November 21st turns out to be the day of the Beaujolais Run. No, we’d never heard of it either, until the pub owner came round with bottle and glasses and gave everyone in the place a free glass of red.

It turns out that on this day the French wineries of Beaujolais start selling their new vintage. And somebody decided it would be a good day for a race. A race to get the first cases of Beaujolais home to their local pub in Britain. The Ley Arms got their stuff rushed in by Porsche or helicopter or something, arriving half-way through lunch. So we made a habit of it.

We’ve been drinking Beaujolais for our wedding anniversary ever since. Until this year. This year we have just finished the Beaujolais, the evening before. Tomorrow we are having this.

It’s a newish local winery. I’ve been driving past the place for a year or so, until last weekend. I got off the bike and tried out their stuff. Very nice.

Here in Australia a galah is a native parrot. Grey wings and tail and bright pink elsewhere. They’re everywhere, and very noisy. To call somebody a galah is to suggest he’s a bit of a fool. I can handle that.

The label is too good to pass up for a wedding anniversary wine.

And hey, it’s no more foolish than rushing wine from the south of France to the south of England between breakfast and lunchtime.

Happy anniversary to us.