Ashes to Ashes

I was wondering what I was going to write about today, it’s getting later and later and inspiration hadn’t came to visit me yet.

Then, then it happened.  Tragedy really.

First I heard a clink, than a CRACK, than a trickle.  Crap, oh crap – Noooooo!

Went grocery shopping today – you know, the big shop, the one that you only do every six weeks or so, when it’s ok to spend whatever, because this is the BIG shop (as opposed to the small run for an onion, some bananas and milk).

So, I get to the checkout and I see the Christmas liquor is in stock.  Oh, yeah - Christmas liquor – when they make concoctions of things and bottle them for your holiday pleasure.  Things with cinnamon, mint, eggnog, nutmeg, chocolate, vanilla - yum.  Things that aren’t out but once a year – which is NOW!

Search, search, search – ah – there it is Evan Williams Bourbon and Eggnog blend.  OMG, this is my favorite thing of the season, but you can’t stock up – because it just doesn’t store well.  It’s eggnog and bourbon- not exactly shelf stable (I’ve tried, it become a solid gelatinous blob) – so ‘tis the season, there it is, grab a bottle- hurray!

Oooohh – WHAT IS THAT?  Kahlua Peppermint Mocha??  Yes please, we’ll have some of that too.

Uber happy with my two selections, I head to the checkout, buy all my goodies and head home.

Have I mentioned the 60 mile an hour winds we’ve had here for the last two days?  No I haven’t – well, I guess now is the time to bring them up.  Last night they blew the big doggie over while she was trying to go to the bathroom, she’s been gun-shy about going outside ever since.

Do you know where this is going?  It’s a sad, sad thing really.  I was there.

I pop open the hatch of the car, grab a few bags, spin around to leave the garage – I’m caught by a gust of wind – I hear CLINK (glass on glass) then CRACK – oooohhhh noooo, then a stream of liquor starts flowing out of the bag, onto me, the ground (and all over my husband’s frozen pizzas, sharing the bag – won’t those be interesting later on when he cooks them up)?

I drop the leaking bag and stand there looking at it in astonishment.  How?  Why?  Man…..

I go open the house to take the other bags in and the mischievous Miss Rosie shoots out the door, straight to the pool of liquor collecting on the ground – lap, lap, lap, lap. Hey wait – what, stop it, stop!

I put her in the house, to no avail; she is insistent on getting back out to lick up the tasty puddle. 

I pull the dripping pizza boxes out of the bag, run them into the house to the sink to rinse them, go back grab the leaky bag and throw the whole thing out into the trash.  All the while Rosie is getting her drink on.  (I should have joined her).  

So, Evan and I had a short relationship this year – it was over before it even began, not a single sip.  Guess I’ll have to put him on my Santa wish list, because six weeks from now for the next big shop – the holidays will be over and the store will no longer have him in stock.  

Oh, we could have had so much fun together – why oh why did it end so cruelly?