A Reason Why Port is Served at the End

Connie's Post:

It is evening. we are at the townie and gerald is making ham quesadillas to go with the vegetable soup reheat. we both have a glass of port, as this time of year, port is very nice. i'm relating stories from work, so gerald finishes his glass early and opens a bottle of sangiovese for our meal—a totally respectable bottle of il canneto 2004 sangiovese di toscana. he hands me his glass for a sip. mind you, i'm still sipping my rich, lovely tawny port. i sniff and sip the sangiovese.

"after the port, this smells like ketchup and tastes like nothing." i grouse, handing the glass back.

"you must immediately post that comment on the blog," answers my husband. "i suppose that's why port is always served last."

and so i do, as i know its been a month and a half since i last posted.

to our faithful readers of the blog: do not lose heart, keep checking in. i plan to do several way back posts to chronicle the harvest and the status of this year's vintage. plus, its november/december, post hole digging time—don't want to miss that! pete flew all the way from the west coast to participate, so that gives you a sense of importance post hole digging has on the shoestring vineyard. same photos as last year, different acre and i believe at least one man is wearing different clothes.

i apologize for the infrequent postings. my fiscal management class has eaten up more time that i thought it would! this weekend, it will be different! it will be different.