The photo looks like a bleak wintery scene but really it is the reflection of our new home (and power lines and trees) in the window of a guitar store on South Lamar.
If you ask me if it worries me to be committed to paying cash for a tiny piece of that building this summer with no buyer for our current 'ranch' I'd have to say, well, yeah, a little.
But that wasn't why I was drinking Wild Turkey.
We have some people coming today to look at the house informally. Friends. Who might be interested when the time comes. And the house is a disaster with closets and shelves and cabinets turned inside out as we sort and eliminate.
But, no, that wasn't the excuse for the Wild Turkey, ice and water.
I was watching Super Tuesday coverage, marveling at (1) how excited people get about their candidates; and (2) how some states voted for people I would do a write-in against if pressed.
And maybe a little whiskey is in order while watching shows about politics. But everyone knows I prefer Jack Daniels Black Label or a single-barrel craft Bourbon, don't they?
I didn't feel perfect either but for my particular ailment I knew that a certain dose of Advil was more likely a cure than whiskey.
I had a conversation with a friend:
"What are you doing?"
"Sitting here drinking Wild Turkey and watching the election."
"Why are you drinking?"
"Because so many people I know can't!" I asserted. And, while several friends have nasty diseases and treatments precluding alcohol, that wasn't really it either. And why Wild Turkey?
I sort of felt like having a drink. I sort of wanted FFP to make me a Bloody Mary from our friend Al's recipe, but I decided I should have something I mixed myself. There was a giant bottle of Wild Turkey in the pantry and only a 'corner' left in it. So no big mystery. A drink sounded good. I could recycle a giant bottle. And ice and filtered water were readily available.
It tasted good, too, and I suppose it made me nod over the politics before it was all too much and made me ill.