So I come to you lightly toasted.
After an exhausting but exhilarating Sunday morning ballet class, the hubs and I had yummy scramby eggs and bacon for brunch. Which included a nice South African white pour moi.
(Maybe it's been all the Pistorius coverage.)
Then the hubs had to scram - it's a busy weekend at work and he had to go into the office. I offered to clean up whilst listening to the Smiths on the hi-fi ... and finishing my vino bianco. In other words, I'm drinking by myself at home. An exception to the rules.
But that's one of my wildcards. When the hubs has to split for work reasons, I finish my wine alone.
It's a real luxury. I love it ... I really do. Is that sad? Or beautiful?
Do not drink and blog. ;)