I have a problem with me time. It’s interfering with my sleep, not a good pattern to start. Like my father before me, I come home from work later than I want, and yearn for a cocktail as reward for a hard days work. Hey, I deserve it, don’t I? Sure I do.
My drink is not his. His was a Godfather, or at least for the time when this image is seared into my memory of him. He also drank Rusty Nails, and I seem to remember Manhattans, too. We always had Amaretto, Drambuie and Sweet Vermouth. I never saw Sweet Vermouth in any of my friends parents liquor cabinets.
But those are drinks from another age, not my drinks at all.
Instead I drink what my grandfather did, whiskey and soda.
At the end of a long day, later than is good for me, because I should be in bed. I need to be up in the morning. I need my 8 hours. I’m not the whipper snapper I used to be, and I know it. But I want my me time, granddad drink and all, reading Billy Collins poetry and staying up too late.
So that’s what I’m doing.
4 thoughts on “Me Time”
Billy Collins is good. I also like Michael Ondaatje the Canadian Poet Laureate.
You’ll find sweet vermouth in my liquor cabinet in the winter as well as my Dad’s. A well made Manhattan is a delight! Still it’s approaching summer so have you had a proper gin and tonic?
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I had a bad incident with gin at a young age and haven’t been able to stomach it since then. Lol
Dan loved a drink called a Godfather with equal parts Scotch and Amaretto and he alway requested not any amaretto but Sarono Amaretto only will do.
Yes! That’s the drink that’s seared in memory. And I remember your Dad drank 7and7 or whiskey and soda. Of course, I was little, so that part is a little fuzzy.