By Heather B. from NoPasaNada
I like wine. I do. In fact I love wine. I didn’t always have such a strong bond with the fermented grape. There was the wine cooler phase followed by Malibu, then cheap vodka and the college staple that is Natty Light. Then during my sophomore year of college my friends and I started to hang around older girls. It sounds much more sketchy than it was but we lived a life of fundraisers where we steady glasses of wine while making the rounds with politicos of all persuasions.
I started off with Pinot Grigio. A smooth, fruity, white wine. I stuck with the Pinot Grigio but never wandered to Chardonnay because everyone drinks Chardonnay. Then one day out of the blue I started towards the reds. My very first love was Yellowtail Shiraz. Now I should mention here that none of these wines spoke to me. I didn’t swish anything to make sure it was good enough for my ‘refined’ palate. I didn’t sniff and spit. I just moved on to what I knew I would enjoy. I like reds but nothing too big and robust. I don’t like earthy. I like fruity. In my whites I like light and crisp in the summer. Something that reminds me of a fresh sheet hanging out on the line in the breeze. Refreshing. If it is winter, I like a full bodied white. A wine with teeth to it and a buttery finish.



I’ve worked as an editor for four years now. Usually, this is irrelevant to life, but every now and then it makes me very useful. This is one of those times. So, let’s talk grammar!

(Image from Steamy Kitchen)
We’ve probably all grumbled at one time or another about the commercialization of Valentine’s Day. Since having kids, February 14 just seems like another excuse to market candy to our already crazed children, and guilt us into paying a babysitter an exhorbitant amount of money for an extra expensive dinner. No one wants to be the Valentine’s Scrooge caught spraying a fire extinguisher to cupid’s burning love arrows.