Frozen Grapes & A Torch, Both Not Necessary,

A trip to a local Buschenschank.

At least it wasn't sour grapes! This weekend we've got a full house again. Our friends are over from London for a long weekend and as Bob was saying, he can't believe how quickly time flies, as he was counting down the months leading up to this visit.

Our friends are far from novices, in fact one could call them veterans ( Gerhard, if you are reading this, I remembered the word in the middle of the night ) of Eisenberg. This is already their fifth visit and hopefully not their last.

That's the great trait of quiet and reserved people, they absorb and take note. The last time they were here, the four of us joined in a walking expedition with a great bunch of friends to a wine festival on the upper Eisenberg or as I call it- Millionaire's Row - and last night, every now and then they would ask me:

" Isn't that so and so? "

We had all looked forward ( in fact counting the weeks and days ) to having a nice evening at Weber's Buschenschank and that we had. It seemed like everyone was there and for Bob and I it was special to be able to greet and be greeted. Isn't that what dots the i in life? Throughout the evening, and dare I mention that we had such a good time that we stayed almost till closing time, folks would come up to our table for a chat.

It was rather funny the way they called their last round. The lights went off for a while and yes, we noticed. Gosh, that took me back to my student days and the way a last round was announced. Much more awful back then, as the lights would suddenly glare up and we would all blink like deer caught in the headlights.

As you can imagine on a warm summer's night, the wine tasted especially nice and because I didn't know if they had ice cubes I took a tupperware of frozen grapes along to drop into my wine glass. As it turns out, they had plenty of ice so I took home my melting grapes...

I had planned ahead like a good girl scout knowing that we would all enjoy the local wine. The only way we would get home, was to walk home. I had put a torch into my little rucksack and told everyone to wear comfortable shoes. The walk home is a few kilometers after all and walking at funny angles is better done with a sturdy pair of shoes.

One of our neighbours and friend to boot realized that he had had a glass to many and decided to leave his car there, joining us for our trek home. He must have noticed what fun I had shinning the torch because he let me do it for about 500 meters and then told me to switch it off.

" Just all stand still for a while and let your eyes adjust to the darkness. I promise you'll see the road just fine. "

and he was right. Without my torch, we could admire the star filled sky, see the odd vine and still get home without a mishap or a stumble. Life doesn't get much better. Good food, good wine and great friends...

Biggi