Saturday, October 15, 2011
For the life of me I still cannot fathom how Esther and Knut gazed upon the lovely little face of their newborn baby girl and were inspired to name her Edna. I blame this on the fact that they were full-blooded Norwegians. And that it made sense to them to downplay her beauty by christening her with this clunker of a name. Maybe to keep those jealous Norse gods at bay. For beautiful she was. Pardon me for typing whilst mildly pickled, I am on my second glass of Edna Valley chardonnay. I am an equal opportunity imbiber, meaning that I enjoy both the red and white varieties. Martine and I first came upon Edna Valley chardonnay last November and purchased it because it bears our mother's name. To our surprise and delight, it was actually quite tasty. We drank the bottle over the course of an evening in the midst of the week while we were going through Mom's belongings and figuring out what to do with them. I kept that bottle, hauled it home from Tucson even, and a portion of Mom's ashes are sealed in it on the shelf along with photos of her. I didn't know if I'd find that wine again so I wanted that bottle with her name emblazoned on the label. The bottle I'd shared with my dear sister. Because somehow Edna was there with us that week. You may have deduced by now that this wine is available locally. I feel compelled to purchase it on occasion. Because it's tasty. And tastier the more because of the memories attached.