
The little wine shop down the road closed last week. Wines of Distinction it was called, in Clapham. I do hope Mr B and I asking for wine for our wedding didn’t contribute to its failure, we haven’t bought a bottle for months….

What is it about age that makes us feel uncomfortable? Too old. Too young. Acting too old for one so young. Acting too young for one so old. The hot topic in the general press of course concerns a society that increasingly measures a person’s worth by their youth, or lack of it, which shouldn’t be much of an issue unless you’re a BBC TV presenter. Guess it’s lucky that I’m not. Guess I’m also lucky that for now anyway aging doesn’t bother me, for some reason I’m just enjoying the journey of getting older. But many of my friends are not, and judging by some wines I’ve tasted recently neither is the wine trade. ………
A great friend of mine doesn’t need to come to The Thinking Girls’ Wine Night. She already knows exactly what wine she likes. She started her love affair with wine earlier than most when she worked at one of Raymond Blanc’s restaurants up north. After some initial flirting with Viognier she found her true love was Sancerre, the crisp, zingy style of Sauvignon Blanc from north west France that makes your mouth salivate with pleasure.She has good but expensive taste and as a big fan of Sancerre myself she tasked me last summer with finding one for her where quality and price were not mutually exclusive. Tricky. ………
Last week Brother Bouquet and I went to the Damien Hirst exhibition at the Tate Modern. As a celebrated artist himself I was hopeful his artistic eye would help my understanding of the preeminent shark in formaldehyde as art.
As we strolled around the increasingly bizarre pieces with our chins on the floor, the severed head of a cow complete with live black flies feeding off the carcass, it became clear that interpreting concepts from installation to words was simply not going to happen.
At the Laithwaites tasting the other day I was left equally speechless by a wine that was impossible to put into words but was without question all the more tasteful. It’s jump out of the glass and smack you in the face yellow fruit bomb aromas, roses in full bloom and mango and melon flavours made it by far the most impactful wine in the room. ………

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I know things are getting a bit much when I make time to have my nails done. It gives me at least an hour to concentrate on sitting still. I spend a lot of that time wondering what my nails are going to look like when I walk out the door. If the state of the beautician’s fingers is anything to go by my hands will have aged a decade and be flaking at the tips.
The distance between painting nails for a living and giving a monkey about your own reminds me of a friend whose dad was a handyman but spent her childhood in a house full of odd jobs that needed doing. There are people that work to live, others that live to work, and then there are the lucky few aboard the ultimate busman’s holiday who rarely distinguish between the two.
Like me. ………
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