There’s nothing quite like a chilled bottle of Prosecco to launch the weekend. I was lucky enough to have today off, and was able to spend most of it being the domestic diva I strive to be, and had dinner ready for my man after a hard day at work. Tonight wasn’t so much about the food (although it was quite delicious), but it was about a nicely chilled bottle of Prosecco.
It was “one of those days” for Michael. As we enjoyed our Prosecco he started quite mildly by enjoying the bubbly wine. Then, suddenly, we were launched in a Robert Plant memorium and I had the great song, “Bad Case of Loving You” sung to me. Then, I had to listen to the story about the sqeaky brakes which was annoying to my man Michael, but turn out to be some guy in the bus shelter wailing away on his piccalo. Yes, we do have people playing the piccalo in Old Strathcona on Friday nights. And yes, my Michael will rage against an innocuous piccalo player.
After the rage against the piccalo, we launched into a great dance to Johnny and Mary. Of course, you must realize that neither Michael and I are dancers, but there’s something to be said about Prosecco. It makes the most stoic of legs want to dance. In as much I would have loved to taped video of my man dancing like only a white man can who had one too many at a family wedding, I was forbidden, and I wasn’t prepared to break the happy dancing spell my hubby was under. For those that live in the suite below, we were sure you were gone lest you be subjected to a groaning ceiling above your head.
After a week’s worth of work behind us, and we found ourselves in a suitable mellow mood, we launched into a supper of penne, ricotta, parmigiana, spinach and lemon. Delicious! The Italian Centre Shop (finally) had Portuguese tarts in, and that’s what we’re having for late night tea.
From both of us to all of you, we wish you a pleasant and peaceful weekend.