Is wine a posh drink?

SOOP What a day full of laughter this is turning out to be! I have been that wobbly walking woman on quite a few occasions!

I have never actually fallen down, but I have had to put a hand on each table as I left a bar from time to time. My worst effect in my drinking days was having a complete blackout and not knowing where I was when I woke up.

Carol I have a confession. When I was invited to spend time with my newly met, husband to be, I set off from Kingsbridge in Devon to meet him in Lostwithiel in Cornwall. Before leaving home, he gave me instructions on how best to reach my destination. I was told NOT to go into Liskeard...but, I somehow missed the turn and did just that. I then found myself sitting between umpteen floats in the annual carnival I asked a man dressed as a clown - 'Am I on my way to...?' He replied - 'Eventually!'
Once out of the carnival, I proceeded towards Bodmin...had seen a sign to Lostwithiel [which I shouldn't have taken.] Eventually made my way down a long, winding, leafy hill [expecting or hoping to spot my man waiting on a given corner, as promised.] Only of course, he was still waiting at the top of the nominated hill...had been there AGES! I found the village pub. Nice folk welcomed me and one good man went off to find my man. 'He'll be there forever, if I don't,' he smiled. In the meantime, the jolly crowd and I had a few glasses of . When the good man eventually came through the door with my smiling man [looking well-pleased that I had in fact arrived] I realised that I was well and truly tipsy. I had to concetrate very hard in order to get off the high bar stool. My man took me to his cosy home and spent the best part of the night nursing me through an humungous hangover. He proposed marriage two weeks later. We met courtesy of Dateline. Happy ever after story to be told some 24 years later.

What a great story - you must have found a gem!

So Funny!! I have an image of some of us Gransnetters teering carefully across crowded restaurants, scarves, hats and hairslides slightly askew, trying not to rush before gravity takes control of tipsy bladders

Greatnan He is that. On our second date, he cooked a whole chicken dinner and transported it on a tray, on the floor of his car, from Lostwithiel to Kingsbridge. As he turned the corner into the car park, the tray tipped and chicken juices puddled on to the matting. For weeks on end, the car had an obnoxious aroma from just behind the driver's seat. Took forever to get rid of pong!

The day I went to London to be interviewed for the job in Monaco, my potential employer took for a very expensive meal at Les Ambassadeurs ( he lall e ehh e

Grr.....bloody computer.
As I was saying, he took me for an expensive lunch which involved a lot of champagne (which I wasn't used to) and finished with strawberries and cream. He then drove me in his Rolls to the hotel where he had booked a suite for me. Unfortunately, I was extremely sick in the foot well and he said it took the chauffeur weeks to get the smell of strawberries out of the car.

notso is the best person to talk to about homemade wine she is an expert and makes all kinds... in fact I think for our next party we should get her to make some wine for us to have a tasting .

soop that had me giggling thinking of you teetering on that bar stool.

What a good idea glass! I must root out my demijohns and make some gooseberry and rhubarb wine for a virtual party.

I used to have a neighbour who had a secret still in her stable, and would share out her alcohol amongst a select few friends. I would never dare drink it, it was too powerful! She made a sort of apple brandy, which I believe would strip paint!

Greatnan I wish you'd stop making me feel envious

When I was young I got so drunk and felt so ill I lay down in a gutter (I was in Birmingham city) and refused to get up. I remember not caring about anything except stopping the awful sick spinning feeling.

I've never been drunk enough to forget things though.

No I think Mateus Rose was the posh stuff 40 years ago! I remember Hirondelle though (a pun on swallow, very sophisticated.) Obviously the French drink a lot of wine, but are a bit -er- blinkered about wines from elsewhere. We served a really good Austarlian red the other day and our guest said, "but it must be French really".

I had a lovely neighbour who used to make gooseberry wine her family owned the market gardens in West Kirby not far from where I live,she would invite us to Tupperware parties at her house and the dear soul used to wear a blonde wig when she had visitors "to posh myself up a bit" by the time the party the wig was back to front on her head and it used to take me and another neighbour 1/2hr to get across the Road back to our own homes thanks to the gooseberry wine we had consumed,oh how I miss those nights we had such a good time Cheers Mrs Jackson.

It was a long time ago - 1979!
Nobody buys my wine now (well, I do get well treated when I am in NZ.)
The troube with home made wine is that you don't usually have much idea of the alcohol content - I have been very drunk on elderberry wine.

glamma sounds a great tupperware party love the wig

When I was first married we had a neighbour who made his own liqueurs. They were truly horrible but he used to press them on us with great enthusiasm. What a relief it was when I got pregnant and had a good reason for saying, 'No, thank you'.

Before we moved house last year, we thought we had drunk our stock of home made wines, but found a demijohn of what we think might be elderberry in the garage with the airlock still in it. It is now festering away in our new garage and I keep trying to pluck up the courage to open it up and see if it is drinkable. (To date, I have chickened out and headed for the nearest bottle of supermarket red!) It's probably quite toxic by now, but then a lot of the wines we have made have tasted quite toxic! DH says he is not making any more, but we have a wonderful, huge, warm airing cupboard here and I think it is a shame not to utilise it to the full, and have a few demijohns of blackberry, and carrot claret, glugging away among the sheets and towels!

I dyed a few sheets pink when a demijohn exploded in the airing cupboard and then gave up a promising career as wine maker.

Good heavens Annobel - what on earth were you making? Nitroglycerine?

Can't remember if it was damson or blackberry. Definitely red.

Sounds like the fermentation process was working extremely well Annobel!

Am guilty of 2 steps forward and 4 back on many occasion if wine is posh then I am true aristocracy hic

bagitha

Lynch Bags? Stop taking the piddle.
Let's go for LUNCH Bags...

A propos Talbot, I daresay you know exactly who he was. The 4th ( or 5th )
husband of Bess of Hardwick. Now, didn't SHE do well!!!!

I am still at a loss - with this thread and at leat one other - to have any idea what is actually meant by posh.

Or why is should matter?