Hey, I've missed you, bloggy friends. It's mine, not thou's fault. I got stuck in Helena for a week with the weed whacker. (winter preparations, there, too)
I'm going to plead "old age" for the reason it took so long. That's like the old romantic novels where the young gal's pleaded their bellies. I first saw that expression in "Forever Amber" in 1944 when I was 14. I found my mother's copy she hid in her underwear drawer. It was too racy for my eyes. How times change. What I'm trying to spit out, "It takes me longer to trim bushes than it used to."
I was going along, trimming my 3rd gooseberry bush down to the nibs when I happened to notice all the bushes were pleading their bellies. (So happy to get a chance to use that phrase again). Bazillions of glistening droplets of plump berries, crying out the word "wine." I blurted out, "No no, don't do that to me. I don't have time to pick you or caress you into a fine wine."
Oh, what the heck. Organic gooseberry wine. A white delicacy.
I'm now back in Bozeman with gooseberry wine fermenting in the wine bucket. I know I will be asked how I do it. Very simply, the old fashion way. Berries, handfull of raisins, one lemon, sugar, yeast. I still have my elderberry wine as I'm not much of a drinker. A thimblefull is sufficient once in a while.
I've made wine out of just about everything. Back when the good wild stuff was not drenched in poison spray, clover and dandelion were great favorites.
Sizzle, sizzle..... great fermentation. Now to catch up on my blog reading of my dear bloggy friends. Adios
P. S. Evidently I opened a small can of worms with the mention of the phrase "plead your belly," from the book Forever Amber. I'm so old, I guess I thought everyone had read the book as I think of it as a classic. The story takes place in the 1660's following Charles 2 return of the Stuarts to the throne. Homeless street girls who were pregnant, would "plead their belly" for a stay of execution for petty crimes they committed for survival. If you haven't read this book, I highly recommend it. I hadn't read it in 67 years but I remember it in detail. How many books can boast of that?