“wine is sunlight, held together by water”

06Jul09

It’s no secret, I love wine.

Among dinner guests holding beer bottles and glasses filled to the brim with cubed ice, liquor and a splash of soda, it seems I’m the only person in my group who holds a glass of wine.

Whether it’s in passed down cut crystal, my fancy conasuirs or favourited petite stem made of the utmost lightweight glass – I’m the wine girl of the group.

How did I become such a wino!?

Well, it’s not the buzz I enjoy the most (thought I do totally welcome that), rather the entire capture of every sense – the texture of it roll on my tongue and past; the weight of the stem between my fingers; the way light picks up traces of pinks, golds, reds and yellows – how it glints; sticking my nose just above a poured glass, inhaling and identifying the notes; corks popping.

Back in 12th grade my best friend Codie worked in a wine making shop. I’d hang out there constantly among the vats of Sauvs, Chardonnays, Pinots and Zinfandels, shooting the shit with customers while waiting for her to get off work so we could go diving off the docks at White Pine Beach.

Back then, I was an occasional hard-bar drinker, all up in the vodka de Jour mixed with 7-UP, orange juice and a drop of grenadine or double long island iced teas at the clubs. Whatever tasted best and got me smashed fastest with the least amount of actual drinking was always my number one choice.

Though on occasion, Codie would skim a bottle or two off the top of a client’s batch of White Zin or Grenash and after popping the cork through with a Bic pen, we’d pour it into white plastic cups those night at the beach. I don’t think I had wine appreciation back then, but damn, it was good and almost made me feel more worldly in a sense.

In years to come, I slunk away from the liquids in favour of nose powders and pills, preferring to claps bottles of water and dance all night, or on occasion take shots of straight rum or whiskey just to prove the point that I could still drink the boys under the table.

Wine didn’t really come back into play until about ‘02 when my boyfriend of that moment’s dad pulled out a bottle of his famous home-slice vino over an intimate Italian feast. It was gorgeous. I think he caught onto the sparkle in my eye and continued pouring me glass after glass. He’d found a true wine companion it seemed. And I was rights tipsy feeling in front of adults I was trying to impress, yet, everyone was smiling because their grumpy gus dad/husband was smiling for once, so it was a win/win.

After I started hanging out with Colin on a regular basis, it was back to the norm. I’d show up at his place with a bottle of Bacardi Limon and proceed to kick their asses and get them all drunk over a game of Kings – while getting my own buzz more from making grown guys play a girlie drinking game (and liking it) over Tiger Woods golf on PS2, for once. Good times, good times.

Eventually, Colin and I moved into together and decided to tackle the deck – which was the remnants of him and his twin brother’s bachelorhood. Case upon case of empty beer cans and bottles lined our (his former party house) deck and Col and I got around to packing and delivering them to the depot. Our take was about $30 and we decided, totally out of the norm, on a largish bottle of vino.

That night, we sat on the clean deck for hours staring up at the sky, sipping wine, smoking and talking. I don’t remember anything about that night other than that moment:

The clink of glass, the tiny sips, the conversation.

Many nights past – we weren’t regular drinkers, but when the time came that I had to pick a drink of choice, I’d go for a bottle of wine. At first, it was always pink, of course. I mean, that’s the only thing I knew from Codie’s wine shop. But eventually, I grew up and into myself. I’d peruse wine lists with interest, kept a detailed journal complete with labels, descriptions and thoughts and read the wine column of the newspaper faithfully.

Wine, to me, is about bonding. It’s about engaging every single sense, tasting and enjoying. It’s about moments – with a group, with a dear friend or flying solo with some good music and reads.

“Poetry in a bottle” they say.

And obviously, I dove headfirst into a bottle of poetry myself tonight

******

Update: Wow…wine makes me really wordy! Waking up to my blogs is always an interesting thing. Note: I like coffee, too…really like coffee this morning, but I’ll keep it simple:

Coffee is good stuff. Love it!

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