This bottle opened with a bang, though I was woken by Claire hopping out of bed declaring she heard something fizzing. I asked her if she was awake enough to find a cork and put the bottle in the fridge. And then went back to sleep.
Chilled Tutti Fruti may be the way forward - despite it being essentially a red. The cold does not destroy its flavour and this bottle was not as thin as previous ones.
I drank my Tuesday and Wednesday night rations in a poor temper. On Tuesday I took my recently-acquired nineteenth-century French bassoon (how many adjectives?) to summer orchestra and struggled to play it. Then I was made immediately irritable by a cashierless check-out insisting several times over that there was an unexpected item in the bagging area. Wednesday night's bad mood was caused by staying up too late sieving fruit out of my nascent gooseberry wine.
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