Come on baby let's ride the sunrise

I know that I'm supposed to inspect the cork. I know that I'm supposed to stick my nose into the wine glass (deep and bulbous for the red) and inhale deeply. I know that I'm supposed to take two sips before I decide if I like it. I know I'm supposed to look at its legs. I tend to forget, though.

Or maybe I just don't really care.

There is little I like more than unpacking the bag, taking off the clothes and pouring the glass of wine. I put on my music and I listen. I sip and I feel.

They are my grandmother's wine glasses, you know. Donzens of dinner parties later they are well used and well loved. Some have met their demise. I never mind.

There is no greater way to show appreciation than use. A memory isn't protected by an item. The use of the item creates more.

I could sit for hours listening to the songs and letting them take me to those places. It's my sanity, you know.