the weird chick

Wine and Tubs

January 10th, 2014

And a choir of angels descended from the heavens above…

So I’m 23 today. Super old, I know. To celebrate, the boy and I have gone to Canada’s wine country: Niagara-on-the-Lake. We passed dozens of little wineries on the way here. Does anyone know why there are so many wineries here? Is it just a thing people decided a long time ago just because?

I don’t like wine. I find it bitter, or sour, or just plain bad. I can do fruity wines, the ones that taste like juice and really aren’t “wine”, and cost $6 a bottle. Those are good. But if it’s available somewhere fancy, and someone would swish it around his mouth and talk of notes and the proper glass shape to allow aeration, I don’t like it. So while I came to “wine country”, I have not gone to a single winery.


Aberlynn: Year of the Fall

January 8th, 2014

Strung from the lamps of the town were ruffled lengths of old furs, coated thickly in a sparkling ice. A bitter cold had passed, leaving the lands encased in thick, crystalline ice. Doors and windows were shut tightly, sealed around the edges by the same ice. A blanket of snow had frozen solidly to the ground, and above it was a light layer of dusting snow that had blown on the tail end of the winds. Everything stood perfectly still and undisturbed. An uneasy silence hung over the frozen village, with not even the smallest wisp of smokey, warm air sneaking from the houses. There were no footsteps in the snow that rested on the ice.

Punctuating the lifeless quiet, a loud cracking sound echoed briefly before it was absorbed into the precipitation. It was followed by a choir of cracks and pops as the bitter winds left the town. The silence that had held the town as tightly as the coating of ice had vanished in a moment as the warmth fought back against the cold. The battle had been fought many times in recent days, the cold retreating briefly before returning with an increasingly stronger resolve. The town was worn, the walls of the houses eroded by the fierce storms.