Tag: wine

You Can Lead a Horse to Wine, but You Can’t Make Him Write a Novel.

July 21, 2015 • 9 Comments

I’ve been thinking about motivation and the thought occurred to me that perhaps if I only allowed myself wine *when I was writing* – I’d get this next book knocked out PDQ. (That means “pretty damn quick,” for you laymen out there.) But, then again, that would require discipline. And self-control. And saying no to wine. Plus, I have about another 40,000 words to go. And that might be a lot of wine.

On a somewhat unrelated note, I googled “wine” and “horses” (don’t act like you’ve never done that) and I got that dandy picture above. But I also found this:

Which seems kind of inappropriate. But, I actually have this bottle holder except that mine is a moose. Now, I’m not sure if it is the horse that makes it look pornographic, or if I’ve been in denial about the fact that my moose appears to be getting raped by a wine bottle, too. And maybe Steve wasn’t being a pervert when he told me what it looked like my moose was up to.

I linked the picture to a store where you can buy your very own so that if you felt like the only thing missing from your life was a horse deep-throating a bottle of wine – your life can now be complete.

Friday Happy List.

May 1, 2015 • 11 Comments

It’s Friday so I thought I’d share with you a quick list of awesome things that make me happy.

Fridays. I have yet to meet one I didn’t like.
The new show, iZombie (which may be further proof that I am actually a 15-year-old girl trapped in a woman’s body). Whatever. It’s a delight.

Wine. Because it’s amazing. This picture of wine is also amazing. So two for one on this point.

My new bamboo sheets. Seriously. Who knew you could make fabric out of bamboo? And why is it the softest thing in creation? And why have I been having so much trouble getting out of bed in the morning? More questions than answers, really.

This sign. Because it always makes me picture a little bird with a French fry. And how does that not always bring a smile to your face? ‘Cause that little bird just hit the mother lode.

My dogs. Because every time I walk in the door, they act like I’m a combination of Joe Montana, Geddy Lee and Jesus Christ. (My dogs are big Rush fans. I blame Steve.)

Enjoy your weekend and take your happy wherever you find it.

Drinking With Mormons.

June 13, 2014 • 26 Comments

Well, not “with” them, really.

So, I’m on a family vacation. With the whole ~~damn~~ family (she said, lovingly). Today is my parents’ 50th Wedding Anniversary so we loaded up the vehicles and drove from California to Canada…for fun and celebration. My brother and his wife (the “Mormons” above-referenced) are on this trip as well.

Steve and I drink a lot of wine anyway, but on vacation…yes, it’s daily. And we found some delightful local brews, as well. My brother and his wife and I are all very close (and brutally sarcastic and passive-aggressively judgmental). Long story short, when I’m evaluating whether or not beer is acceptable at 9:30 in the morning, I can see my brother’s eyes glaze over (in the aforementioned passive-aggressive judgment). So, out of respect for the Mormons, I waited until 11 am to drink my (delicious) 650 ml beer. Don’t tell me I’m not a team player.

So this has all been an important lesson in “perspective.” If, on vacation, you drink every day, but never get stupid-drunk, no problem. If you drink every day *with Mormon bystanders*, you might be an alcoholic. Hm. Well, I’m still convinced my problem is my audience and not my intake. Did I mention the beer was delicious? (#MoonUnderWaterBrewery)