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Saving for Rainy Daze

I had quite the wine collection back in Florida.  Some very fine vintages that I had collected or been gifted with, others . . . well, I'm not quite sure how they ended up in my wine stash.  Possibly bottles that people had brought to dinner and left . . .

I do not have a wine cellar on the QEIII.  She is quite a comfortable highway-sailer, handles well, has all the comforts of home, a decent sized galley with a side-by-side fridge/freezer, a convection micro-oven, an adequate head, but there was no provision for a wine cellar. (What were these designers thinking?)

For those of you just dropping in, the QEIII is a land yacht, chosen for her three separate living areas, which makes it appear that I have more room than I really do.  I mean, how much room can there be in a 40' motor coach? There is a media wall between the dining area and salon, and that visual break gives one a sense that there is more going on back there than there really is.

I like the fact that she can sail without regard to oil spills and to ports entirely landlocked. She is a condo that moves to the next vacation spot, the next tailgate party, to the next speaking engagement or conference . . . and the prince & princess can sail with her . . . and with me! No doggy day-care, thanks all the same. The last episode that we endured over in Burleson was quite enough.

So, when I sailed from Jacksonville in January, I grabbed some of the wine and stored it on board in what I thought was a safe place.  Alas, I have absolutely no idea what happened, but every single bottle that I opened has turned to vinegar.  Even the newer bottles I bought this month. Seriously . . .

Several of the bottles were "corked" and one was oxidized.  Talk about waking a sleeping giant! Every time I opened a bottle I could smell the tell-tale pongy fetid smell of a dark, damp basement, and opening them - that first smell and the odd sip - was every bit as scary as being down in that dank basement. Ugh! The bottle that was oxidized had turned to something way past the vinegar stage.  I've never uncorked such a scary bottle of the grape.

Really a shame to enjoy them on my own; I had been saving the wine to share with another, which is why I started opening them in the first place.  One right after the other, all in varying stages of ruination: flat, fetid, acrid, musty . . . Bottle after bottle was poured down the drain . . . and I may be totally turned off to wine for awhile.  Okay . . . a short while.

So, here's the point: don't save the really fine wine, or anything else in life, for a rainy day.  Don't wait for a more convenient time to take off from work and take that cruise to the Greek Isles, have that baby, get married, (notice that the last two are totally out of order, which is the way we are doing things today), buy that sailboat, motor coach, vacation spot etc.  There may not be a tomorrow, and if there is . . . life, like wine, may very well be corked and past the moment of enjoyment.

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