VOVP - Very Old Vintage Prot. I mean Port

Wed evening. My last post was written on Monday but only posted tonight. Clearly (since you all pay avid attention to every word I write) you will have noticed that the Gods of Technology did not deliver. My “service provider” provided no service for Monday afternoon, Tuesday in its entirety and Wed morning. But on Wed afternoon “service” was again resumed. At last I am able to post. Lucky you, eh? I’m sure you’ve all been wondering where I’ve been. (Don’t correct me. Ignorance is bliss.) It has been the most incredibly gruelling experience to be without the internet. Given the choice, I’d rather run headlong into last night’s fire than be without my internet for such a long time ever again.
Then again, maybe not. After all, it’s quite hard to navigate the net when your fingers have been burned to a crisp. Not to mention the rest of you.
By the way Mum and Dad, not to worry – I’m fine! I’m sure you meant to call me earlier, all anxious, but held off so as to allow me the illusion of my independence. Right?
Never mind – E’s Mum also didn’t call.
Now, Mum. Don’t be offended. I’m just kidding :-)

So here I sit, procrastinating about downloading the visa rubbish.
As I write this, I am dining on beef and veg cuppa-soup and stale crisp bread (the grocery cupboard strikes back…) and the most sublimely delicious glass of very old, very smooth, incredibly delightful port. After all, not only do I have to consume all of my food before I leave, but also my stash of alcohol. Well, I intend to make a damned good try. My Mum always said to do my best at anything I tried, and that would be good enough for her. And you know what else is good? This port! (Excuse me for one sec while I top up and check on the tumble drier…)
The label on the bottle says “Monis Very Old Vintage Port”. The reason I know that this is not a lie, is because the price sticker (which, incredibly, is still stuck on after all these years – clearly they made everything better way back when, including price stickers) says R1.95.
Now Benny Goldberg Liquor Supermarket (also on the price sticker) may have been fibbing through their teeth about the port being Very Old Vintage when they sold it to my Gramma back when, or maybe they weren’t, but it certainly is now. And since I have opened the bottle, it is now Very Old Port with a Very Short Projected Lifespan.
It is so good that I feel almost guilty for drinking it by myself. (Almost.) Perhaps tomorrow I should have the climbing girls up for a nip after we conquer Higgovale Quarry and before we move on to the Moroccan Restaurant at the top of Kloof Street.

I am having another thought – that I might be drinking, completely unwittingly, something that is worth a day’s salary a sip. But you know what? That’s ok.

It strikes me too, that perhaps I should stop procrastinating about downloading the visa rubbish and actually do what I intended to do when I sat down in front of this computer. And so, as much as it pains me, I shall stop my port pontification and move into constructive mode.

Adios muchachos.