I love Bourbon, Jim Beam in particular. I've tried many Bourbons and always go back to my buddy Jim. Jim has always been there for me. He was there to hug me and keep me warm after my husband died, he was there to celebrate with me when I got my MBA, he loved to sit with me while I read a murder mystery. He wasn't there every evening, though; he would come and go. This morning I realized I hadn't seen him since I started eating naked. Hm. I haven't even missed him.
Before my aunt moved into assisted living, I would spend one night a week at her home. She would make dinner and I would mix the martinis. She was a great cook and I was a great bartender. The evenings were always filled with laughter, good conversation and Jeopardy. Now she is in Oregon and I miss her terribly. I miss the crisp martinis. That first sip of an ice-cold, shaken martini in its fogged glass, condensation dripping, was heaven. I made them with plenty of vermouth and dirty as can be.
I have always preferred my alcohol straight because I could gauge how much I was getting. Rather sip a Bourbon on the rocks than swig a mixed drink with added sugar which jacked up my insulin production. I also always laid down a solid base of protein before I sipped. Believe me, I've studied the affects of alcohol in the bloodstream and have found by avoiding the high carb snacks which generally accompany cocktails and nibbling the meat and cheese sans crackers, I can maintain a modicum of equilibrium. Because I maintain control, I get to be the designated driver. I learned to be a responsible drinker.
Imagine my surprise to find I am not desiring Jim after a 40 year love affair. Yes, I cheated on him with another man now and again. Johnny Walker was hot for awhile and Ezra Brooks curled my toes, but I always went home to Jim
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