Environment at home is peaceful. Wife leaves in 2 weeks, and so do I. Much to everyone’s surprise, my wife is packing a bunch of kitchen stuff for me to help me set-up. That’s really nice, I suspect she’s doing it now rather than next week because the reality of the situation will set in. She’s gonna blow, I just know it.
Plates, cutlery, some cookware, I’ve got my own blender (Yeah!!!), various glassware (proper Martini glasses), shaker, dish clothes, some spice stuff, book of recipes. I’m authorized to take part of the bar as well. But really, I’m good with a just hunk of aged Parmesan Reggiano, a little olive oil, fresh cracked pepper and a decent glass of white wine (and we’re talking just breakfast here). We were sailing along just fine.
Until I asked about the wine glasses. Explosion. “You can take all the party stemware you want, but you will not take any of the Riedel glasses. Period, no discussion, they’re not leaving the house”, she intones and then continues. “I’m not having you and your party boys drinking out of these glasses. I know you, you’ll be in full social mode every night and these glasses aren’t going to see that action.” OK.
She doesn’t know the stark truth. That I’m likely to wish I had a lawn chair camped on top of an iceberg floating at sea than endure the road ahead.