Sobering Thought

One of the fixed points of the Parrot family week is Mrs P’s Saturday five hour constitutional with her sister when they take our mini dog pack for a walk on the moors. It’s the sort of trek that involves a backpack loaded with provisions — Snickers (The Marathon-runner formerly known as Paula Radcliffe), various biscuits, both human and dog type, extra layers, maps etc.

But the most important provision is a flask of coffee, and the most important ingredient of the coffee is brandy. And not just any brandy, it has to be Spanish brandy. More specifically, it has to be Soberano which has to be the drink with most ironic name.

Anyway, we appear to have hit a Soberano crisis. There doesn’t seem to be a bottle to be had anywhere. We used to get it from our local Morrison’s, but there is just an empty space on the brandy shelf and the same is true of the next two nearest branches.

So what is going on? Have we fallen out with Spain? Has there been a poor harvest recently? Have the vineyards been turned over to poppy cultivation? Or are terrorists holding the brandy to ransom in an episode of 24 that hasn’t aired over here yet?

If the latter, Mrs P’s message is: We give up. Give us the Soberano and you can have Iraq back.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

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