The grey area.

I am back in Vinoland.  Yes, I returned from my holiday to England last night.  It was dark by the time I got home, so I knew I would have to wait until morning to survey the amount of new growth on the grapevines.  I was excited to go outside first thing, but I had to be patient as my tour of the vineyard was delayed due to an extremely grey start to the day accompanied by very heavy rain.
I have to say, I think I was expecting a bit more progress in the leaf-department.  Vinomaker had told me that there had been some very cool weather in the first week that I was away, followed by some warmer days.  However, it is the ground temperature, not the air temperature, that determines when and how quickly the vines begin to do their thing.  Of course, five to six inches of growth in the Orange Muscat vines is nothing to be sneezed at.  Besides, there is plenty of growing season remaining.

Remembrance Sunday.

My visit home has been a rather trying trip, but, as always, it is coming to a close.  It is with mixed feelings that I leave England now.
I did manage to slip in a little bit of English pageantry this afternoon, a Remembrance Sunday parade and the laying of wreathes of poppies at a local war memorial.  Although a sombre event, it did put the faintest of smiles on my face.  Lest we forget.
Bye, bye Blighty.

Happy St. George's Day, 2017.

Who is this international dog of mystery?  It's just my faithful Vinodog 2 celebrating St. George's Day.  Yes, today is the Feast of Saint George, so V2 and I are dressed appropriately for the occasion.  And I've been singing Jerusalem all day.
I wish I had timed my holiday a little bit better, so that I could have celebrated St. George's Day in England this year.  Unfortunately, I departed "England's pleasant pastures..." 48 hours too soon.  Perhaps next year.
Happy St. George's Day to my family, friends and any dog who loves England as much as I do.

A bunch of rosés.

Although there hasn't been much rain since I have been home it has been extremely blustery. Extremely blustery.  In other words, the weather has been anything but rosé-weather.  I was hoping that whilst I was here I could perhaps enjoy a glass, or two, of a nice pink vino with a leisurely lunch, or dinner.  No such luck. (Although I did have a nice glass of Frascati after the Grand National.)
If the weather had been nice, and a tasty rosé had been in order, I would probably have had a hard time picking just one to buy.  The selection of rosés available in the local Sainsbury's supermarket is rather extensive, I wish it was like that in my Napa supermarket.
I may still have time to partake of something pink, but only if the weather cooperates.  For now, I will just imagine that I am sitting in the Napa sun with a glass of a nicely chilled rosé in my hand and my trusty poochie, V2, who I am missing like mad, by my side.

Happy Mother's Day, mum.

It is Mothering Sunday in England, or Mother's Day as it is more commonly known.  And here is my mum, all smiley and young.  In her day, my mother used to be fond of a glass of Merlot, or a nice Rioja, but she doesn't drink much anymore. However, her real poison was Cognac, preferably Martell, although she did have a soft spot for Louis XIII (Rémy Martin), thanks to Thud.
In England, Mothering Sunday falls on the fourth Sunday in Lent and, as it has its origins in Christianity, is not really related to the American Mother's Day, which is celebrated in May (other than honouring mothers, that is). Of course, I am partial to the English Mother's Day because I am English. But also because it signals that the end of my Lenten fast is now only three weeks away.  All things chocolate be warned.  But, I digress.
Happy Mothering Sunday to all (English) mothers.

Liverpool Gin.

I'm not a gin drinker, but all my family do like the odd gin and tonic.  I don't really like spirits at all, actually.  So I had to ask Thud what he thought of this gin: he said it's alright.  I just like the bottle.  It has a Liverbird on it, so why wouldn't I like it?  Liverpool Gin is indeed made in Liverpool.
I'm a sucker for good packaging and I don't care if that makes me seem shallow.  The makers of Liverpool Gin have ginned up the label with a bit of gold to appeal to people like me, except I'm never going to buy it, ever. It's still a very appealing bottle.

Brexit.

The sole topic of any meaningful conversation that I have had with Americans over the past week has been about Brexit.  Like I'm some sort of expert because I'm English.
Exactly a week ago, when all polls showed no reason to suspect that the citizens of the United Kingdom would vote to the contrary, the European Union (EU) was comprised of 28 member nations.  Perhaps voting with their hearts, instead of their heads, my countrymen decided a divorce from Europe was in order. What happened?  I don't know. Nor, seemingly, does anybody else.
The confusion surrounding the debate, about a Brexit vote to seperate from the EU which dominated the news when I was home in April, apparently continued right up until the June 23rd referendum. One thing that is now known, (besides the fact that all politicians are perniciously untruthful), is that Brexit will wreak economic-havoc on my fellow Britons for a long time to come.
On record as wanting to remain in the EU, the UK's wine trade group, the Wine & Spirit Trade Association, issued a statement calling for calm among its members.  Just when English wine production, especially that of sparkling wines, was on the increase a sudden rise in prices (due to the devaluing of the British pound) is the last thing the burgeoning industry needed.  I mean, who, in their right mind, would voluntarily pay more for their favourite bottle of Château Trotanoy, Tenuta San Guido Sassicaia, Domaine Vacheron or Billecart-Salmon? Or even a delicously aromatic, home-grown Nyetimber Rosé.  Not me.
What a mess!

Happy St. George's Day, 2016.

Charles Churchill (1731-1764), an English poet and satirist, (who, incidentally, was born on Vine Street, Westminster), wrote, "Be England what she will.  With all her faults, she is my country still."
Of course, I happen to be of the opinion that England doesn't have many faults.
Oh, and a happy 400th birthday to William Shakespeare!
Happy St. George's Day to my family, friends, and anyone who loves England as much as I do.
[Addendum: 23rd April 2016 was the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death.]

Pretend wine.

I still have not had any wine.  So my 6 year old niece decided to draw me a glass of wine: she knows her Auntie Vinogirl well.  I pointed out to her that she had drawn me a glass of red wine when perhaps I would have preferred a glass of white wine, to which she responded, "I don't have a yellow pencil."  Fair enough, red pretend wine it is then.

A holiday from wine.

Not one drop of wine has passed my lips since I arrived in England.  I did not even have a glass of wine yesterday when I visited my favourite restaurant in Liverpool, the Casa Italia.  Why?  Well, mainly because I have been very busy.  Very busy.  Wine, to me, is meant to be enjoyed and savoured.  Wine is not meant to be consumed in a hurry, or because one feels like one has to have wine with dinner.  One doesn't.  Wine is nice, but it is not mandatory.
A couple of days ago, whilst planning with Mrs Thud what we were all going to have for dinner, Thud and I ventured into his wine room looking for a little inspiration amongst his collection (which is heavily Italian).  And then I came down with an awful cold.  Inevitable really, given my nieces and nephew have had colds and the temperatures have been hovering around 8-9° Celsius.  Brrr!  My sense of smell is now non-existent.  Apparently my personal wine-tasting equipment has gone on holiday also.

Get back...

...to where I once belonged, Part 8.
I may, or may not, take advantage of Merseyrail's services in the next fortnight.  Yup, I'm on my way home to Blighty once more. Whoo hoo!
And if by chance I do get on a train in Liverpool I'll be on my own: Thud hasn't used public transport in 35 plus years.
Posts on Vinsanity might be few and far between.  Holiday here I come.
Get back JoJo!

Rain stopped play.

Today was the day that the new Oakville Crossroad bridge, the bridge that makes it possible to reach Highway 29 from the Silverado Trail, was supposed to be completed.  I say supposed because, (like anything to do with government it seems), the bridge is not yet finished.  Shocker! Closed due to a small 4.1 earthquake that occurred on May 21st of last year, this was the first time I had driven up close to the bridge since the day before the temblor struck.  So, for the past 8 months, if I had had the sudden urge to treat myself to a latte, or a $15.00 bar of chocolate from the Oakville Grocery, I would have had had to endure an almost 17 mile round trip instead of the usual 3 miles.
Citing rainy weather (damn you, El Niño), the Napa County Public Works Department has said it needs several consecutive dry days so that it can finish striping the lanes, etc.  The new opening day, for the $5.2 million bridge, has yet to be announced.  Sigh.
I am thinking, perhaps, that if a few English workies had been on this particular construction project that the Oakville Crossroad bridge would have been finished on time.  If the English continually had to wait for rainy weather to be absent for several days on end we'd never get anything built.  Thud recently finished building this Gothic cottage.  There was no playing around, Thud built his bothy come rain or shine.

The Great British Barbecue.

Absolutely not one single person in England barbecued when I was a kid, but nowadays it seems that just about everybody does.  I find it a rather strange phenomenon given the awfully unpredictable weather in Blighty.  Barbecuing was just something Australians did. 
Today I experienced my first ever this-side-of-the-pond BBQ.  And the weather cooperated, well, for the most part.  However, it was a distinctly English affair.  Yes, there were plenty of burgers and pizzas, which paired well with a fabulous Black Cat Vineyards, 2010 Howell Mountain Zinfandel, but the pork and Bramley apple hotdogs were my favourite.  Yum!  Dessert, kindly provided by Tenbellies, was Eton Mess (a traditional English dessert that did indeed originate at Eton College), washed down with a mug of Earl Grey.  Double yum!

A problematic peregrination.

After the journey from hell, which I don't even want to think about, I am finally at home with my family.  Phew! 
A good cup of Earl Grey made me feel a bit better.  And a second cup made me feel a bit cosier, because it's not exactly warm here.  It doesn't matter about the weather though, I'm home.

Get back...

...to where I once belonged, Part 7.
A quick mug of Earl Grey before I head east, away from Vinoland: my next mug of Earl Grey will be in Blighty.  Yes, it is time to head off home once again.  I'm excited.
I will try to post on Vinsanity whilst I'm on my hols, but I'm not promising anything.
Get back JoJo!

Happy St. George's Day, 2015.

There'll always be an England,
And England shall be free
If England means as much to you
As England means to me.  Ross Parker.
Happy St. George's Day to my family, friends, and anyone who loves England as much as I do.

Chocks away!

Goodbye Blighty 2014, Part 2.
Once again my holiday has come to an end and early tomorrow I will be winging my way back to the US of A.  But not before I have a farewell glass of something domestic, a Spitfire Kentish Ale.
Spitfire bitter (pale ale) was first brewed in 1990 to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Battle of Britain, a limited edition entitled 'The Bottle of Britain'.  Seemingly, the folks at Shepherd Neame Brewery have a good sense of humour.  This particular edition is a partnership with the men's health charity, Movember.  In homage to Movember's annual moustache growing campaign, Spitfire's current label is adorned with a ginger mustache.  Cute.  Quite malty, fruity, hoppy and slightly bitter Spitfire is a very pleasant ale.  And a fitting way to send me off into the wide blue yonder.
California here I come.

Morning in England.

Not a bad view to wake up to, eh?  Arrived in Blightly late at night, so I had to wait until the next morning to enjoy the beautiful countryside around Thud's home.  The weather has been unseasonably warm, until just last night when it got quite chilly, so consequently it feels a lot colder today. 
I have been busy catching up with family, too busy to post on Vinsanity.  Besides, I haven't done anything, or rather drank anything of any note to write about.  I have had a couple of nice meals out, but I haven't had any good wine yet.  Just one barely passable glass of Rioja and a rather dodgy Pinot Grigio.  I may have to rectify that and raid Thud's cellar tonight.  Hopefully he won't read this beforehand.

Happy St. George's Day, 2014.

 "There is a forgotten, nay almost forbidden word, which means more to me than any other.  That word is England."  Sir Winston Curchill.
Happy St. George's Day to my family, friends and anyone who loves England as much as I do.

Happy St. George's Day, 2013.

Horatio Nelson once said, "England expects that every man will do his duty."  Vinogirl expects every Englishman, and woman, to do their duty today and drink a glass of wine in celebration of our patron saint.
Happy St. George's Day to my family, friends, and anyone who loves England as much as I do.