Instead of whining about winter, I am now feeling the need to whine about my lost post. Apparently discard on a link discards the entire post. The ipad ate my blog. The dog at my blog. The dog ate my homework…and I got nothing but first-world problems.
I actually had a funny post. I joked about usually being happy to get 8″ of somethings (not snow, but now I don’t remember how I segued into the joke. But it was funny. You would have laughed, and possibly snarfed your coffee).
Somehow, I wandered onto the topic of gin. With 8″ of snow, there is not much gardening going on here. But there is drinking, made worse by the snow, and blogs that get eaten.
Gin. The extraction of juniper and other botanicals.
Junipers and rust, like the one pictured here. I have some amazing juniper rust pictures, but this one bothers me. Because now I know it is a rust that isn’t supposed to be here. But it was. Don’t know if it still is. Sadly, I didn’t know it at the time.
Gin, particularly Nolet’s, which may mean ‘nectar of the gods’ in Dutch. If it doesn’t, it should. Redolent (Yes, Redolent!) of roses–it’s a total fucking flower bomb in the mouth. It flirts with juniper. And with citrus. But it is the flowers that linger, in the mouth for minutes after the last sip, and on the brain days later. It was that good. Roses. Violets. Something else.
Which brings me to rules and syntax. Syntax, the rules of grammar that I sometimes flout. Rules, including plant quarantines, which I try to adhere to, but simply can’t keep straight. And gin. Which pacifies me when I can keep the rules straight. And accidentally delete a blog.