Sometimes I get overexcited about silly, stupid, little things. Especially when there is nothing else going on in my life, deserving a proper amount of getting excited over. Last night that wasn’t the case. Last night was a bungee jump of excitement for me. The recipe for that was simple and didn’t involve great heights except the ones my mood went. All that was needed was a bottle of bubbly, a sabre, a bit of guidance, and voila I sabred* my very first bottle of bubbly. Two hours later I still felt the adrenalin rushing through me. Okay, maybe mixed a bit with one of the six glasses of wine I tasted after the sabring. Though they are definitely not main reason for the rush I felt, really. Just look at it:
My favourite bubbly and my newfound favourite way of opening it.
Mind you, Nigel was literally holding my hand and moving it, but he was quite nonchalant about it, letting me take all the credit.
The one day I had already been taking so many pictures that I got sick and tired of it and left my camera at home, thinking what excitement can possibly happen at a wine tasting? Am I really going to be taking pictures of Chardonnay? Hm, no. But Murphy’s Law would have it that I got the chance for a great photo op, though in my case it wasn’t so much chance as begging and pleading, and no camera in sight. It would have been a stunning picture since it was a proper sabre too. Engraved it came with a bag/case/whatdoyoucallitforsabres and looked all dashing and swashbuckling. Cathy told me that her husband can do it with a tea spoon. In a way that is quite impressive. In another way it is not. It is having high tea with the queen versus a drink with Jack Sparrow.
So there...I feel like I have moved to a new club - the mile high club of bottle opening.
*Yes, I know it's not, but it should be a verb too.
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