Even though I know I have more housework to do, I snap up a spare ticket to spend time at a yearly event on the calendar for the Thursday drinkers. The Waipara Food and Wine Festival. I went once years ago. I have memories of hay bales and that's about it.
It's an early rise to get to Gloria's by 8am. Bacon, smashed avo and bubbly. By the time we leave I've drunk my quota for the day. When I get to the festival I find a tree and have a kip. The setting is a grove of oak trees. An umbrella of shade. I kip on and off and taste on and off. Pinot Noir is my favourite but I like sweet wine too. So nice to get out of the city and see hills. Here in North Canterbury they're summer golden.
The day finishes with drunken chats on the bus back, a drink fuelled argument when we make a toilet stop, and slow decision making when we pile off the bus. I'm dying for a swim. It's dark when I get back from Taylor's. But the day has reset my head space.
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