Diary of a Lesbian Housewyfe

I don’t know if anyone else is a Sugarland fan, but their new album has a song on it which I’ve been singing in the car each time it rolls around:

“Now it’s poor me, why me, oh me
Boring
the same old worn out blah blah story
There’s no good explanation for it at all

Ain’t no rhyme or reason
No complicated meaning
Ain’t no need to over think it
Let go laughing
Life don’t go quite like you planned it
We try so hard to understand
Irrefutable, indisputable
The fact is
It happens”

Doesn’t this just sound like me? Especially the “same old worn out blah-blah story” part. So here we go. My same old worn out blah-blah story.

Since we last convened, Steph and I sold SpringSips and almost had our lives back to the point of regular chaos when Steph’s calf started hurting. After three weeks of pain and a final descent into delirium, I managed to get her to the doctor. Staph infection, emergency surgery, release from hospital (on oral antibiotics!), oral antibiotics didn’t work so scheduled surgery, discovery of rare yet lame lung disease (symptoms = shortness of breath during extreme exertion. Is it just me or doesn’t everyone have that?), release from hospital (on IV antibiotics. Boo!), healing, healing, healing, less healing than there should be, learning to be a nurse and dressing her leg twice a day to promote healing of the suture, healing, healing, pain starts in arms and shoulders, change back to oral antibiotics (yay!), chiropractor visits every two days to get the shoulder and arm pain alleviated. And that’s where we are today. We go to see the doctor on Thursday for our next checkup and I’m expecting good news. Woo-hoo!

During all of this, our manager quit at Cellar Liquors and gave me two weeks notice. So I’m learning to run the liquor store on the fly while being a nurse. Luckily, our chef/manager/chief bottle-washer is still around upstairs and she’s been making some fabulous lunches at the cafe.

Meanwhile at my sweet honey bunny’s bedside, I knitted a sweater and a pair of socks, and preserved about a gross of jellies, jams and butters - all for Christmas gifts.  My silver lining?  I’m almost done with my Christmas crafting!

Well, that was August through now. See. Same old worn out blah-blah story. Eventually I’ll learn to stop making plans so God will stop taunting me.

So yesterday, I tried this new wine: Mas de la Dame Rose. Oh. My. God. I cannot do it justice. Layers of flavor with a dry finish, but fruity enough that your friends who only like sweet wine will still like it. Yeah. And so reasonably priced, French and organic (or biologique as they say in France). Plus, it’s pink.

I have this thing for pink drinks. There’s nothing like a pink drink to make you feel decadent and special and girly. I love Kir Royales especially. Sparkling wine does the same thing for me as pink drinks except I also feel sophisticated, so you can imagine my affinity for the Kir Royale. I make mine with Chambord sometimes too, which is actually a Kir Imperial. Yummy either way.

Anyway, pink drink season starts again soon. I’ve been fighting off the snow golems with generous amounts of the Shingleback Grenache Rose that I took home earlier this week. I also found a new absolutely yummy and easy cocktail called a Paloma which really does only take about a moment to make and makes me feel like summer is just around the corner. I use Izze grapefruit soda, because that is what is in the liquor store downstairs, but I stuck with the Reposado Tequila (I used Milagro) and substitutes are now not welcome.

Actually, I think that I’ve started the pink drink season early. Woo-hoo!

One of the advantages of owning a liquor license is that people show up and want you to drink free wine. Just a taste, and the person is trying to sell the wine to you, so you are expected to put out at some point or another.

However, free yummy (usually really yummy since they want you to buy, buy, buy!) wine. Yeah baby.

After the first day, I learned how to taste and spit. I tried to just sip the first day and ended up buzzing the day away. Not the best state for starting a new business. There’s just too much to do!

So, to taste and spit successfully, follow my directions. I can’t effectively discuss wine because a cold several years ago destroyed my ability to smell discerningly (ie. Our Wine Buyer, “I get eucalyptus and back cherry.” Me, “I smell wine.”) and my palate is for shit. I can *look* like I know what I am doing, so that’s what I’m telling you to do here. If you want to really know how to do this, a good guide can be found here.

First, allow the person to pour your taste into the glass. Usually the amount is just an ounce, and you don’t want to ask for more until after you’ve tasted.

Look at the wine. To truly get a sense of the color, you can hold something white up to it. Tip the glass so you can see the gradations from the light. If you are like me, you’ll need to practice your “studying” look in a mirror. Decide what colors you want to see and then base your reaction on that. Generally, a pleased look arrives from a dark purple (verging on black) color for red and a pale golden for white.

Swirl the wine in the glass to release the aromas. Smell your wine. Get your nose right down into the glass. Sniff like you’re sniffing lilacs or roses. Draw up as much of the scent into your nose as possible. Try to find one (or more) scents so you can add to the conversation. Don’t worry about whether or not you’re right. Everyone smells something different and, especially if you are talking to a salesman, someone will agree with you. If you’re worried, just agree with the people around you. Everyone likes to have someone agree with them.

Taste the wine. Take a nice mouthful and swish it around. Let it hit all parts of your palate. Taste what you can. The same rules apply for tasting as smelling, so mention if you want or agree as necessary. If you are playing the advanced version of this game, then pick some outrageous taste and argue you can taste it. Fun! (Especially if you want to annoy the wine snobs. hehehe)

Finally, to spit or to swallow. If you are tasting lots of different wines and need to drive home (or return to work), then spitting is the way to go. At a party or a benefit “wine tasting” or at a restaurant, swallow away. Remember though, one glass of wine is five ounces so during a big tasting it’s easy to overindulge without even knowing. And overindulgence can lead you to give yourself away.

I’ve been know to say that I have a “palate like a sailor’s ass.”

Just mentioning.

Calder (the little guy with all the new socks) dropped by today with his momma and sister. At only three weeks out, Momma has lost almost all of her baby weight! I guess he’s sucking her dry. We’ve been calling her Elsie occasionally, and to give her credit, she laughs and then looks a little sad. I think that the quick weight loss is helping with the laughter though. Whitney has a body made for pregnancy though. She doesn’t really start showing until the sixth month. By the eighth, she’s huge and walking around saying things like “rip it out of me” and “I’m dressed like a hobo.”

But now - three weeks after the birth and she’s fitting back into her regular jeans? Jeans! I just think she’s made for having babies.

Luckily, she doesn’t make me hold them.

So last Saturday, I was keeping my sweet honey-bunny company down at the liquor store*. She was barfing in the back room because she didn’t feel well, but was still too butch to go home and leave me in charge.

Maybe she was just scared of what I might do to the customers. hehehee

I‘m sitting at the counter knitting a sock because that’s what I do when I’m working retail. It’s the perfect job for catching up on your needlework. As an added bonus, knitting provides you with built-in weapons just in case someone tries to take advantage or is unwilling to show you their ID.

As a sidenote - I don’t want to see your ID so I can tell everyone how old you are - just to see if you’re old enough to buy liquor. If you are born before today in 1986, that’s all I care about.

This couple walks in and the guy, surprisingly enough, zeroes in on my little sock bag. I’m pretty proud of it, don’t get me wrong. I crocheted and felted the bag so I could easily carry around my sock project. Having the large book that currently goes with the sock project and doesn’t fit in the bag is merely a momentary glitch which I will overcome once I’m comfortable knitting socks. I can totally work the crocheted sock without having to carry the book with me everywhere. But I’m getting distracted.

The guy, who looks like a slighty worn timetraveler from the sixties, calls across the counter to his girlfriend, “Honey! Look at this bag! Don’t you love it? Did you make it?” He asks me as an afterthought.

I’m flattered. I mean, I modified a pattern that I found in the Interweave Crochet magazine a couple of years ago all on my own so I’m proud of this little bag. I almost feel as if it’s completely my creation.

“Yep,” I replied.

And he says “Honey! She knit this bag all by herself,” and beams at me.

Okay. So he can’t tell the difference between knitting and crocheting. I get it. Yarn is yarn and stitches are stitches and if you see me knitting then that little bag can’t be made in any other way. I’ve often gotten the “Wow! You knit?” when I’m holding yarn and a crochet hook in my hand. Whatever. I’m a big girl. I can handle it. After all, a compliment is a compliment.

I smile and simply say, “Thanks.”

“Honey” wanders over (I’d say walk, but she was really happening to wander by as she perused the wine) and says “Oh yeah. That’s real cute. I learned how to knit once. I just don’t have the time.” Which is fine.

But here’s the thing. She says it in “that way.” You know “that way” that means “I don’t have the time because my life is so much more interesting than anyone who would bother knitting or crocheting or crafting in any way because only boring people who don’t have boyfriends and have to work on Saturday night and are basically old boring people would bother doing such a boring activity. Really.”

And suddenly, I hate her. I want to say “You know” (because all good comebacks start with “you know”) “You know, knitting takes skill, and being able to knit a sock is at least something useful in this world - not like dressing like a whore and going out drinking. Of course, that’s probably all you have the dexterity for. Hopefully, for your boyfriend’s sake, you can use your mouth a lot better than your hands.”

But I’m playing “Lesbian Housewyfe Retailer of the Year” tonight, so I just say “Yeah” and hope they pick out a really expensive bottle of wine to make up for the obvious gaffe.

But no. After spending tons of time asking tons of questions, they leave with a bottle of wine from the $7 bin and a 1.5 of Jim Beam.

Mmmmmmmm. Have a fun night!

*What liquor store? Well, Cellar Liquors Downtown in beautiful downtown Steamboat Springs, Colorado!

Yes, I am a shameless marketer.