My husband doesn’t really drink. If we are out he will occasionally have a gin and tonic, but that is the rarity. I watch what I drink mostly because my father was an alcoholic, but will usually order a vodka tonic if we are eating out. Usually you won’t find alcohol in our house, with the one exception, the Republican debates and the entire election season last year. There was always a bottle or two of vodka in the freezer, but let’s be honest, that was a dark time for me and most people. If you are friends with me on Facebook, you most certainly have witnessed my rambling, often drunk tirades on politics, the Republican debates and Donald Trump, they were all fueled with Vodka. Now that all that is over, I promised myself I would never again drink based on Donald Trump or the Republicans because let’s face it, I would be drunk every day, all day. But sometimes a girl wants a drink and possibly a little buzz on a Thursday evening.
Today I went to get my nails redone, and the salon is right next door to a liquor store, it was 90 degrees today in Nashville, and I thought about making a lovely sangria, so I went next door. When I waked into the liquor store it was empty, 100 percent empty, except for the elderly man behind the counter. I have been in libraries louder than this liquor store, the Dallas library comes to mind right away, but I quietly walked over to the vodka section, just to see what was new before I moved over to the wine section. There it was, this beautiful summery display with Western Son Vodka. When I drink vodka, I almost always stick to either Grey Goose or Kettle One, but this Western Son Blueberry Vodka was actually screaming my name. I had to lean in a little close to the bottle and tell it to be quiet we were in a libraryesq liquor store, and I was here for wine for Sangria, not vodka. That Western Son had other ideas, and it jumped right into my newly quaffed nails and said: “Nope, you are takin’ me home!”
I walked directly past the wine selection and right up to the register, and when the elderly man asked if I needed anything else, I whispered “Nope,” handed him my credit card, and me, my beautiful nails and my new friend Western Son walked right out the door. As I was driving home with the new John Mayer record louder than it should be, windows down, and the wind blowing in my short hair I asked myself “Do I have to wait until 5?” I don’t have a job, or as a friend pointed out, I’m on vacation. While I’m not on vacation and more like unemployment, I decided to wait.
So, at a time where I felt appropriate to drink, I pulled out the Tonic, some fresh lemons, and my new friend. I was optimistic, excited and even though my husband was still working, I fixed myself a drink. A little fresh lemon juice, ice, some tonic and the blueberry vodka; it was spectacular. As I sat on my balcony drinking my “blueberry lemonade” I thought to myself I should have taken a picture! So, in the apartment, I went and fixed myself a second glass. There were so many things I wanted to include in this picture, my beautiful flowers, the beautiful skyline, and my new favorite drink, so I balanced the glass carefully on the 1 ½ inch railing and stepped back to snap the picture. As I watched the wind blow my beautiful drink right off the balcony I realized there were things I didn’t account for: The windy day. The really powerful gusts of wind. My porch chair right behind me. Let’s just say, Lucy and Ethel would have been proud! As I stared at the bush three stories down I thought a few things, 1. I am NOT digging through that bush for my glass; 2. Now I don’t have a complete set of glasses…at all; 3. Now I’ll have to make another drink; 4. Maybe this spring I’ll have a Blueberry Lemon Vodka tree!
As I sat on the balcony looking out onto downtown Nashville, the warm, sometimes gusty wind blowing in my hair and a cold drink in hand, I was content. Maybe a little buzzed, which will make making dinner a little risky, but I was content, life is good. Here’s to Blueberry Lemon Vodka Trees and contentment.