Monday, April 2, 2012
My parents have been married 58** years today.
A toast to them. Through thick and thin.
Two people as different and individually remarkable as the two cocktails that Vince and I sipped on the roof. And neither of them a hensopper.* My parents, I mean.
*Boer War (late 19th and early 20th century) reference. The hensoppers (from, Hands up!) were Afrikaners who chose to surrender to the British. The bittereinders wanted to fight to the bitter end. (Don't read too much into that last part...)
The drinks? Vermouth with cassis and lime and a gin martini with field garlic and garlic-stuffed olive. You may assume that I drank the pink drink.
** My mother says it is 57 years! I thought I flew out there for a jet set five days in 2004 for the big 50th bash. Clearly my mother's mind is better than mine. I asked them if they went out to celebrate and she wrote: "We didn't go anywhere and ate in the kitchen with a bottle of pink Moet."
I can't think of anything better.