I took this bottle to York with me as something a little bit different to foist onto my parents. They claimed to like it, but I think it has a vaguely poisonous aftertaste and Claire refuses to drink it. I hope Mom and Pop don't think that I am trying to speed up the inheritance! We didn't quite finish the bottle and there is still a glass or so lurking in my parents' fridge.
It was a lovely evening in which Mom served duck in rice and I recorded Pop telling the familiar tale of how he and Mom met on a train to San Francisco. This included the events immediately before that, which I had not known - how he travelled to America by boat and where he changed trains.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KCkwr5mnoHAx8vMszOaqfaXMpU8S3r4qNEX7k_lBYxYLP9bAOvup3vOUNoETvHENM6H5xt451igTvVYHuto9RrAUNFb5OwUke6i70_xSRdkMUa1xHfCC-8v7IEY0-38BOq867zo-PGY/s320/IMG_20191222_144059.jpg) |
At a Chamber Music Party, the day after I drank this bottle |
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