Out of Time Mom

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Thirsty Thursday- Wednesday Edition

Umm, this was full. Where'd it go?

Tonight I killed a bottle of wine. Not alone, mind you, but the majority of it was me. I’m not a big drinker, in the sense that I don’t drink often, but occasionally I drink a lot. A whole lot. Tonight, at just 4:30 PM, I decided I was going to drink some wine, for no other reason than it was here, and that I would be able to buy another in a couple of weeks when I go back home to Maryland.

The wine was excellent, in that fruity, summery, delicious way. Were I a wine connoisseur, I would describe it to you in great detail, talking about hints of oaks and floral notes, but I don’t know anything about that stuff. I just like fruity sweet wines, and this is one. It was red in color, and it was sweet. That’s all I’ve got.

What I like especially about this bottle of wine is that it’s from my stomping grounds. I had no idea that Dorchester County could make such a delicious wine. See, my hometown is in that marshy county. We on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, grew up on bay breezes and marsh mud. Crabs and chicken. Natty Bo and sweet tea. Growing up there, I didn’t see the land growing something as delicate as wine. Sure, our next door neighbor dabbled in homemade wine, and I even got the chance to stomp some grapes as a kid, but it was stored in old Jack Daniel’s bottles out in the shed. It didn’t seem like *real* wine. (Sorry, Mr. Wayne, I’m sure it was delicious wine too!) This wine, bottled by Layton’s Chance vineyard in Vienna, MD, is real wine. Their Joe’s Cool White is some of the best wine I’ve had and I buy it every chance I get. I love to give it as gifts, or shuttle a few bottles back here to Massachusetts with me when I leave my parent’s home in Maryland. I even love the Joe’s Cool Red, despite the inevitable headache I get every time I drink red wines. (Hand me the ibuprofen, it’s going to be a big one!)

I have developed an affection for this wine. It reminds me of the softer side of where I grew up. Things I took for granted when I lived there. The salty sulfurous smell of the bay and it’s tributaries. Marsh grasses billowing along the shores. All the fowl and wildlife just waiting to be discovered in a quiet cove or field. The comfort of the familiar. And while this wine probably won’t be competing against fancy french wines, it’s ok. I don’t need those fancy wines. I need the comfort of home, sweet and soft, familiar and cool, like my grandmother’s cheek against mine. I indulged in it today, on a Wednesday, before 5PM, in the middle of February.

It was my last bottle of wine until I get home in a few weeks. It’ll tide me over until I can see my family and renew my spirit in a meaningful, lasting way. Until then, thank you Joe’s Cool Red, for giving me a little taste of home.



  1. blabla

    That’s one whimsical bottle of wine.
    I’ll stick with Old English,the big bottle.

    • The wine isn’t quite as whimsical as the wine drinker, or probably as homesick either. I have to go home every couple months or so, or I get maudlin. 😉


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