Tonight we drank the first very red wine over our very white downstairs carpet. My mom, who also chooses to tempt the fates with her own very white carpet, has this line about only serving guests oysters, mashed potatoes, and white wine. She’s only kind of kidding. (There isn’t cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving.)
Earlier this evening our sweet friends popped sweetly by with a lovely bottle of red. After today’s painting (round 875), doorknob installing, and tv mounting, by tonight work had settled down into the basement — aka, land of the white carpet. Our efforts involved Ikea (again), and so the wine was especially appreciated. And it was appropriate that the very first wine quaffed on the very white carpet would be very red. After all, we may as well be bold — even when it comes to the bitty bits.
Here is the latest:
