Wine and Bonbons

My (most times) dear, sweet husband thinks I lounge about the house all day, eating bonbons and drinking wine. If I ate as many bonbons as he seems to think I eat, I’d be Two-Ton Tessie. As well, if I lounged around that much, our house would be a disaster. Hubbie isn’t exactly a neat freak, nor am I.

I will have to concede on the vino blanco, however, but I do have my rules: I don’t drink before four o’clock (it’s always four o’clock somewhere in the world, isn’t it?). And I never get drunk.

Once upon a time, on occasion, I got drunk, but those days are long gone (maturity caught up with me). There was even a time where I felt the consequences of liquor – the carefree sensation, the slightly tipsy effect, the occasions when hidden and not-so-nice words spewed forth unexpectedly from my mouth. I actually didn’t drink much at all until I was in my forties, now that I look back. It was then that I discovered wine. Previously, I’d drink mixed drinks, something I don’t touch anymore.

I don’t experience those detrimental effects of alcohol anymore, even though I’m drinking more today than previously. Does that mean I need to drink more? Has the tolerance worn off?

I’m at a level plateau in my drinking, if that even makes sense to say, and don’t want to drink more. Wine adds to my weight gain, after all, and I’m always trying to lose a few pounds. Plus, I know alcohol isn’t good for my brittle bones, nor is it good for the rest of my health, especially with a family history of heart disease. The good news is that I’m not an alcoholic; I do know that for sure, even though alcoholism ran in my family (the ones that suffered have since passed on).

There’s nothing I like better than a glass of wine (or two) at my side while I sit in front of my computer. I’m a writer and my best ideas flow when I’m drinking. Maybe I’m a Hemingway in disguise. He required liquor to write successfully, didn’t he? (I recall having read that somewhere, not to mention other great writers who drank heavily.)

But, no matter how much I drink, I’ll never be a Hemingway, disguise or otherwise.


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