Ooooh.
Exactly what the name suggests: butter (and maybe bread), vanilla and cream, mangoes and I don't know what all. Also, a lesson in restaurant versus grocery store markups: a glass of this delicious liquid may cost you $10 at a local bistro. A whole bottle, at the supermarket down the street, may relieve you of $12. Now I understand. The restaurant is recouping the cost of the bottle every time it sells one glass.
And I've decided against abandoning you, my fatheads, while I work on all my projects. As Lucia would say, "it is just busy people who have time for everything." I also decided against abandoning dear Blogger for WordPress, even though Blogger did pull the plug on At First Glass, and even though WordPress, with all its sleek gray and blue bells and whistles, looks as though it is meant for cool people, not moms and retail floozies. No matter, or "je m'en fiche" (I don't give a damn) as I learned to say by watching a French film in a college French class some years ago.
(It was a crazy movie, all about a young Parisienne who searches out some deep dark secret about her father, or was it grandfather? -- a man whom she suspected might have been a collaborator with the Nazis in World War II but who turned out to be not only a member of the Resistance but also a man who left France for Algeria after the war and then ... converted to Islam and stayed there! Insane. At a time -- 2006 or so -- when, so we read, Islam was and is slowly strangling western Europe, filmmakers producing introductory things about French culture for American college kids felt some deep need to show that, well, a Resistance fighter circa 1946 would naturally flee from victory in the land of Chartres, Voltaire and Montrachet to Algeria to embrace the god of female genital cutting. The only character any of us liked was Bruno, the Ken-doll television anchorman who was the pretty Parisienne's best friend.)
Yes, je m'en fiche. Blogger still has way better customization features, for free, than grim cool WordPress offers for money.
I'm so relieved at it all that I must give you some music. Last night even in the middle of the pledge drive I heard something wondrous on our dear WFMT. This is Liszt's "Fountains of the Villa d'Este." In the very lovely French language it's called "les jeux d'eau à la Villa d'Este," les jeux d'eau literally meaning "games of water."
We can also enjoy a Bread & Butter pinot noir, retailing for about the same as the chardonnay, $12.
Exactly what the name suggests: butter (and maybe bread), vanilla and cream, mangoes and I don't know what all. Also, a lesson in restaurant versus grocery store markups: a glass of this delicious liquid may cost you $10 at a local bistro. A whole bottle, at the supermarket down the street, may relieve you of $12. Now I understand. The restaurant is recouping the cost of the bottle every time it sells one glass.
And I've decided against abandoning you, my fatheads, while I work on all my projects. As Lucia would say, "it is just busy people who have time for everything." I also decided against abandoning dear Blogger for WordPress, even though Blogger did pull the plug on At First Glass, and even though WordPress, with all its sleek gray and blue bells and whistles, looks as though it is meant for cool people, not moms and retail floozies. No matter, or "je m'en fiche" (I don't give a damn) as I learned to say by watching a French film in a college French class some years ago.
(It was a crazy movie, all about a young Parisienne who searches out some deep dark secret about her father, or was it grandfather? -- a man whom she suspected might have been a collaborator with the Nazis in World War II but who turned out to be not only a member of the Resistance but also a man who left France for Algeria after the war and then ... converted to Islam and stayed there! Insane. At a time -- 2006 or so -- when, so we read, Islam was and is slowly strangling western Europe, filmmakers producing introductory things about French culture for American college kids felt some deep need to show that, well, a Resistance fighter circa 1946 would naturally flee from victory in the land of Chartres, Voltaire and Montrachet to Algeria to embrace the god of female genital cutting. The only character any of us liked was Bruno, the Ken-doll television anchorman who was the pretty Parisienne's best friend.)
Yes, je m'en fiche. Blogger still has way better customization features, for free, than grim cool WordPress offers for money.
I'm so relieved at it all that I must give you some music. Last night even in the middle of the pledge drive I heard something wondrous on our dear WFMT. This is Liszt's "Fountains of the Villa d'Este." In the very lovely French language it's called "les jeux d'eau à la Villa d'Este," les jeux d'eau literally meaning "games of water."
We can also enjoy a Bread & Butter pinot noir, retailing for about the same as the chardonnay, $12.
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