STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU

"It’s a chill bright sunshine-cum-grey squally sort of day in the Barossa, and I look out the window at the pruners in their wet weather gear, giving the precious Greenock Creek Cabernet its annual haircut."

This was the opening line of a DRINKSTER piece last winter, about Constellation or  Heavens Above or Milky Whey or whoever they were, becoming Clap Wines or Claque or whatever it is.  I'm fascinated by the vast number of hits this story attracts from people searching for references to the Latin word cum, as in cum grano salis, but in an unusual association with drinking. Maybe they're simply too jittery to drink alone.  Strange.  My term for obscenely wasteful vineyard irrigators, Big Squirters, is also very popular amongst some searchers, who never seem to stay long once they've lobbed.  So to jack up the volume at the risk of shortening the duration, I thought I should offer a wholesome Christian image lest any dear reader happens to take any of the above with a pillar of salt. Perhaps we should bring this meditation to a close by joining together in praise as we sing that beautiful old Charlotte Elliot hymn, Oh Lamb of God, I come, I come.