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On a recent outing Mr P asked me, “Is it okay if we pop in here for a minute? I want to buy a bottle to take with us to the lunch on Sunday.”

My reaction was um, yes, all right, so in we went.

It was the sort of small independent wine merchant that models itself on a Victorian haberdashery, all mahogany shelving, wicker basketry and individual hand-written love notes tied around the neck of each bottle in black ink on brown paper labels tied on with string. The underlying message being that alcohol is a normal and even necessary part of ‘the good life’….

I was startled by the klaxons going off immediately in my head, like in the TV series ‘Lost in Space’ where the robot blares out “Danger, Will Robinson!”

Telling a surprised-looking Mr P, “I’ll be in the art shop across the road, all right?” I shot out of the wine merchant as if all my sober buddies had taken me firmly by the shoulders and frog marched me out (which in many ways of course, you were doing, so thank you!)

It’s not so often nowadays that I write on the blog about alcohol related issues in respect of my own drinking/not drinking, I think. Most of the issues in my life tend to be not alcohol problems, but what could be called BMW problems:

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Not that I have a BMW! No, I mean Busy Middle-aged Woman problems, such as how to shoehorn the cost of driving lessons for my teenager into the household budget, or trying new tactics to deal with the peri-menopausal flourishing of my eyebrows which does not include plaiting them like a dressage pony’s mane…

I am glad that my early-warning system is so sensitive to potential dangers, protecting me from the harmful-for-me myth of moderation. I will listen to it and respect it – because it knows bull-shit when it sees it!

Sober first, folks. Have a fantastic weekend! Prim xx

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