Hubby decided a couple of months ago that he fancied making home-made wine. So off he trotted (well, drove) to a local home-brew place and came home armed with various gizmos and gadgets, plus some tins of grape concentrate.
Being male, this new hobby has obviously taken up lots of his time at home and I've listened to hours of talk about how it's made, what grape variety is being used for this batch as well as hearing the 'blomp, blomp' of fermentation every time I go upstairs as he's using the spare bedroom/office as his home-brewing base.
Wine-making is obviously a Very Technical Activity and I've had to bite my tongue on several occasions when I've wanted to get to the sink for various reasons (the least of which is that it's close to the cooker and we all need to eat) but there are various bits and pieces being sterlilised in there.
Still, some of the wine he's made is of the 'drinkable after four weeks' variety and truth be told, is rather nice to slurp.
However, last Sunday he took the biscuit. I'd been knitting on DD1's Little Peacock cardigan (more on that in a few days as it won't be long before it's finished) and had got up several times to help hubby as he was doing something with one of the wines he's making in quantity (something like 30 litres) and a tub containing that volume of liquid is not only heavy, but a bit unwieldy. He'd been up and down the stairs countless times since mid-morning and it was now mid-afternoon and I admit that DD1 and I had exchanged wry looks on more than one occasion as hubby told us what stage he was at, what he was going to do next, etc. Having been asked to come and assist yet again, I let out a sigh, put down my knitting and went into the kitchen. Obviously I hadn't got my helpful look properly in place because I was told "don't bother - go back and do your knitting - I've only been working all day". WORKING?!!!! I couldn't let that one pass, so I told him that wine-making was not 'working', it's a hobby, as is my knitting. Then I went and did a few more rows!
I've also been reminded that some of the wines he's making are ones I particularly like (Sauvignon Blanc, for example), so I've retaliated by reminding him that I've offered to knit him something, but he's declined the offer. I won't remind him that when he has a snooze on the sofa on a Saturday afternoon, it's often one of the blankets I've made or the patchwork quilt I made that he pulls over himself: after all, I'm beyond that type of petty behaviour :lol:
So funny that the man thinks their hobby is so much more elevated in importance than our "knitting". My hubby's hobby is mowing the yard on his riding mower.. LOL Thanks for visiting my blog! Nice to meet you! Teresa
ReplyDeleteMine is much the same Christine. I can spend all day in the garden and ache so much I can hardly move, but because I enjoy it he seems to think it won't make me tired.
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