This bottle of wine was forced upon us. On our return from York I noticed that the cork was a little high above the rim. An hour later it was higher still. Therefore it was our duty to drink it. Claire acted as Bomb Disposal Officer, opening the bottle carefully with a large glass to hand. Despite the pop and fizz she managed to spill not a drop.
We didn't mean to drink the entire bottle - we are off to Waddington tomorrow for Granny Rita's funeral - but somehow we did. After eating a full chicken roast and apple crumble as a late lunch in York (at which Myles was centre of attention), we drank this bottle to soda bread and a boiled egg. I had forgotten quite how satisfying a soft boiled egg can be.
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