|photo - Philip White|
Dr Peggy Dubberly was a fair dinkum drinkster. I met her after the death of her beloved husband, Cliff, when she became a stalwart member of the Feral Aussie Boullistes' Petanque Club in Rundle Park, Adelaide. She was a highlight shotgun rider on my 21-day tour of my favourite thirst emporia, Paris to Marseilles in 1995 and was a key participant in The Advertiser readers' wine judging panels at my annual Hyatt South Australian Wine of the Year Awards, where she would complain that certain of her favourites were missing from the line-ups in a full day's tasting - on the blind. Peggy could tell that they weren't there. I know of few expert winemaking wine judges who could do that, even with wines they made themselves. A scary but joyous intellectual and deep believer in the acuity of her own curiosity, she was one of the most stylish and witty party lasses until the end, when she died in her sleep in her 93rd year. Here are some Fino flowers for you Peg, on one of the few great tables we never got out our legs under and elbows on. Bless you, lovely girl.