Hope it's bargain bin, damaged freight butter pecan. We live in a house that rents out rooms.
Most often they leave their weed behind for us, this time it's wine. I don't drink but I never had expensive wine...even when I was a souse.
The wine came from a sun baked couple from SoCal. They were delightful, really smiley and it was adorable how they had such amazing tan lines from the flip flops.
They enjoy, coffee, cycling, reading books and taking phone clients even though they are retired.
Our tallbikes were no biggie to them, they are both hot air balloon pilots. My giant rig is a bug to them.
They had that grandparent vibe that made us want to impress them. Over and over again I had to stop myself from bothering them "um here is a drawing I crayoned for you, perhaps you can put it on your fridge?"
They took a shine to us too.
They bought this wine and only had a glass out of it, then left the rest for us.
Olive and I decided to make a date of it. We sat down with the bottle, ice cream and a 2001 episode of Amazing Race. I made myself a butter pecan wine float that tasted more than a little bit like burnt kitten ear medication.
I realized that the two taste sensations need to be separated.
The wine tasted like wine. I didn't have anything to compare it to since the last time I had regular wine (from a box) was over a decade ago
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