We had haggis again on Sunday. Combined with mashed potato, onion gravy and cabbage, only the deepest, darkest red wine will do.
I did the cooking because Claire had spent all afternoon at a Music Club committee meeting. She came back irate about the length subjects were talked around with absolutely no decisions being made. I suggested a gin and tonic to make things better, but she plumped (plumbed? both look wrong) for viola practice and a sherry chaser instead. By the time we were eating haggis and drinking elderberry wine, life was a little rosier.
At the end of the evening I was all for leaving some wine in the bottle but Claire thought that a daft idea. I did the manly thing and helped her polish it off whilst finishing The Accidental.
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