Friday nights are made for drinking slightly more wine than is good for you.
I arrived home from a not entirely unstressful week at work to a stiff gin and tonic, which disappeared with unseemly haste. This was followed rapidly by a bottle of citrus wine, during which we listened to the News Quiz and the Archers, ate a satisfying meal comprising of bacon, mushrooms, onion, garlic, cream cheese and spaghetti, and chatted merrily about nothing important. I have spent the rest of the evening getting sticky with my 2012 batch of rhubarb wine, whilst grabbing the odd slurp from my final glass from this bottle. My head is swimming somewhat, but a quiet Saturday should fettle that.
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